Max’s Awakening #31

by craigpnifty@protonmail.com and J

 

Author’s notes:

Not much to mention here other than to say we are very pleased to get a chapter out in a relatively short amount of time.  We’ve streamlined out editing process, so hopefully it won’t take as long between chapters going forward.  Good writing does take effort, but hopefully we can continue to crank out new submissions in a matter of a couple of weeks vs. months.

Also, judging by the hit counter I included at the bottom of the last chapter, there are a lot more readers of this story than I would have ever guessed.  Many of you must be silent fans.  Page hits can be overstated, but even if only half of them are legit, there are still several hundred of you enjoying Max’s adventure.  It was a pleasant surprise.

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Chapter 31

I barely spoke to Mom the rest of the weekend.  If she was determined to ruin my life, I sure as fuck wasn’t going to act like everything was fine.  Saturday morning, she tried to talk to me like nothing happened the prior night, but I responded to her inane questions with shrugs and barely audible mumbles, if I acknowledged them at all.  She seemed eager, but didn’t press the issue.  I think she hopes I’ll thaw if she gives me space.

I toasted a couple of frozen waffles and quickly retreated to my room.  I may not have anything fun to do, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to spend any more time than is absolutely necessary around my egg donor. 

What was I going to do all weekend?  I sulked before eventually pulling out my textbooks and doing homework; even working ahead in Geometry, just to kill time.  I’ve heard Geometry gets difficult when you get to doing proofs, but these first couple of chapters contained elementary topics like types of angles and various parts of and types of triangles.  Maybe it’s just my natural aptitude for math, but these questions were ridiculously easy.  I actually managed to find some pleasure in knocking off these simple assignments.  I might work ahead more if I continue to be bored. 

After I sufficiently sated my boredom, I settled back into bed, contemplating another long jerk-off session.  Masturbation may be the only fun thing I have left.  Just as I was starting to grope myself, Mom tapped on the door and opened it slightly.

“What?!” I responded in a gruff tone, pretending to be more annoyed at her intrusion than I actually was.

“I’m going to run to the grocery store.  Is there anything you want?” she asked.  In a subtle way, she was making a peace offering.  I considered all the junk food that I rarely ate, especially during gymnastics season.  So many things sounded delicious: chips, donuts, cookies, snack cakes.  I could have asked for anything and I think she would have made the purchase.  Perhaps she feels guilty?  She should!  If I hold out for a while, hopefully she’ll back off.

I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction.  She can’t buy my happiness with sugar or empty calories.  “Nope,” I answered snidely. 

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?  Maybe to pack in your lunch?” she asked, trying harder.  “Or you could come with.  We always used to have so much fun grocery shopping together.”

“I’m positive, Warden Coleman,” I answered with contempt as I rolled away, my back to her.  “Don’t forget to get more booze.  I know you killed that bottle last night, and wouldn’t want you to suffer through a Saturday without being liquored up.” She sighed and closed my door. 

She was right about one thing: we used to enjoy grocery runs.  When I was little, she’d always let me pick out a special treat, like those little fried fruit pies (my favorite was lemon!), and blow some money in a claw machine.  I glanced at my windowsill and noticed a green and purple duck I captured when I was 7 or 8.  I was so excited.  Dad always told me those machines were a waste of money and junk food was trash.  Mom said it would be “our little secret.” 

As soon as she left, I experienced a pang of guilt.  Not that she didn’t deserve the cold shoulder, but was I taking it too far?  It felt mean and disrespectful being so in her face about buying more booze.  While she had been drinking more since Dad went away, and it bothered me, it wasn’t like she was shit-faced every night.  I definitely exaggerated, but maybe that’s what needed to happen for her to know how mad I am.  I think this is what they call ‘being passive-aggressive’?  I’m not certain.  Of course, if I had a phone or computer, I could fucking look it up.  It’s her own fault. 

I returned to thinking about jacking off.  I knew I had the house to myself.  It’s always nice to not worry about interruptions.  I stroked my dick until it was hard.  I wanted to prolong my pleasure and considered using my brush.  I grabbed it from the floor this morning and returned it to my vanity, so I went to the bathroom to retrieve it.  As I ambled that direction, I lamented not having a real dildo.  If I can’t get fucked, I deserve something approximating the real thing.  Maybe Craig would buy me one if I gave him the money?

Then a light bulb went off.  I was looking for something in Mom’s room early in the summer when I ran across her vibrator in the nightstand.  It was shaped like a penis and had a switch that induced vibrations.  I remember being revolted when it dawned on me where that thing had likely been.  Anything that’s been inside lady parts should probably be burned!  Am I right?

I wasn’t as disgusted now.  I was desperate for something better than a brush handle.  Plus, there would be something satisfying about shoving her sex toy all the way in my butt.  Is that the ultimate act of revenge?  To use your parent’s sex toy without telling them and putting it back?  That isn’t too weird, is it?

I ran to her room, opened her drawer, and found it right where I left it in June.  I grabbed it by the shaft and popped into her bathroom to snag some Vaseline.  I remembered watching Joshua use way too much petroleum jelly on his lightsaber candy dispenser.  That memory made me smile, recalling the look of surprise and pleasure on his face as I walked him through finding his prostate.  It was so hot watching him penetrate himself for the first time, spreading apart his slender cheeks and flashing his perfect pink hole.

I wish I could FaceTime him right now.  We could pound away on our dicks and butts together.  Maybe Drake spent the night and they played?  It sure sounded like they were into each other, no pun intended.  Catching up with Josh would be a high priority once I have my phone back.

Like Spence, Josh is a couple years younger than me and, now that he has Drake, is probably already getting and giving blowjobs.  Mom would freak if she knew how many other guys I’ve done stuff with, and how many start younger than I did!

As I returned to my room, it occurred to me I wasn’t sure her dong was even charged, but when I clicked it on, the vibration was strong.  That will be interesting!

I studied the dildo closer than before.  I thought about all the penises I’ve played with or had in various orifices.  It certainly wasn’t as large as Chad’s gigantic dick, but was definitely bigger than Cam, Eduardo, or even Noah.  I figured it was 6”, maybe 6.5” long, and probably two fingers or about 4” or 4.5” around.  As I made a fist around it, it felt most similar to Craig. 

I slathered some Vaseline all over and rubbed the remnants on my hole.  I bent over and looked at my posterior in the mirror.  My hole isn’t quite as bright pink as Joshua or Spencer, maybe a slightly redder hue, but it’s still just as smooth.  I couldn’t really notice any puffiness from Chad’s abuse or my brush.  I slowly worked a finger in to gently stretch the opening.

After a minute, I grabbed the toy and put it firmly against my sphincter.  I turned the vibration on but quickly realized that was making it tougher to get in, so I turned it back off.  I took a deep breath and pressed forward, ramming in halfway.  I gasped as it slid past my special spot, but also winced.  It wasn’t that it hurt so much as it was momentarily uncomfortable.

Thirty seconds later, I managed to get it completely inside.  I took a minute to enjoy the sense of fullness.  It’s always pleasant to be filled to the hilt.  Stacy might not like it, but my butt was built to be filled with cock.  It was also an interesting sight in the mirror, to see Mom’s purple sex toy stretching my ass.  God, she’d throw this thing away if she knew where I put it and what I was using it for.  That made me even harder.

As interesting as my view was, I decided it would be more comfortable on the bed, so I shuffled over and flopped down.  That jostled things just enough to press against my gland, and I let out a groan.

Once in position, I started working it, slightly harder and faster.  My ass was still clamped down tight, so it didn’t move as effortlessly as I hoped, but knew I would quickly relax. 

After seven or eight strokes in and out - each progressively easier as I loosened - I began to softly moan.  I hadn’t touched my dick yet, but noticed a pearl of precum was leaking.  I worked my backside with my left hand and rubbed my head with my right.  That felt nice, but what I really wanted was to take a taste.

As I enjoyed the sweetness, I thought about all the loads I’d tasted the last few months since I started having sex.  Too many of Cam’s to count, a few from Noah, a couple from Eduardo, but also Jackson, Craig, and Chad.  I envisioned the look of horror on Mom’s face if she walked in on me, cum dripping from my lips, as I worshiped the cock in front of me.

I love giving blowjobs, and it's awesome when a guy cums.  You made that happen.  You work hard and earn a reward.  It’s so erotic. 

But, the taste itself isn’t great.  Or, at least, man cum is meh.  I think I’ve had enough samples to determine I definitely prefer to swallow loads from other boys.  It’s sweeter, not as salty, and definitely thinner.  As I thought about it more, I would happily drink from Cam and Noah’s tap all day.  Eduardo’s wasn’t too bad but I wouldn’t say I liked it.  Jackson’s was more like Craig and Chad’s, which while not horrible, should be swallowed immediately and not held in your mouth. 

Then I remembered how much I enjoyed Craig breeding me the morning we left Cozumel.  That felt even better than when Cam left loads in my butt.  Maybe boy nectar is meant to be savored while grown up seed should be deposited deep inside? 

I wondered how Spencer would taste.  Assuming Cam is okay with it, I can’t wait to find out.  I wondered whether Seb could squirt yet.  Jamie started bragging last February when he started shooting.  So many boys to play with.  Mom would be repulsed.

My subversive fantasy was interrupted as I suddenly remembered: this thing vibrates.  I wonder what that’s like?  I flipped it on.  Hoooooly shit this is niiiice.

As I plundered myself harder and faster, I noticed my hole was wet and starting to involuntarily twitch.  They say the ass doesn’t self-lubricate, but that’s bullshit.  My heart was beating hard, sweat forming across my torso, and my insides radiating warmth. 

I grabbed a nipple and tweaked it.  It was already pert, but hardened further.  I caressed my ripped abs.  It reminded me of holding Cam, which made me long for something I wasn’t allowed to have.  I finally have him back, but not really, because of that stupid bitch on a power trip.  The idea of Mom stopping us from exploring each other’s bodies filled me with rage and I started to jerk wildly. 

I’d like to say I managed self-control and enjoyed an epic edging session, but between my wild imagination, intense thrusting, and maniacal hand movements, I didn’t last more than another minute.  I came hard - so hard, in fact, I splooged directly into my mouth with my first two spurts.  That was hot, but unexpected.  I held it in my mouth for a few seconds.  I wouldn’t say I enjoyed swallowing my own spunk as much as Cam and Noah’s, but it wasn’t bad.  The other three spurts hit my chest, stomach (pooling in my navel), and where my pubes were starting to come back in since I hadn’t bothered to shave lately. 

I was spent, breathing heavily.  My chest was flushed.  The dildo was still humming.  I turned it off.  It still felt nice being full, but I knew I better remove it before the lube dried and it would hurt too much.  It stung slightly as I pulled out.

As I stood, some cum dripped on my carpet.  Whatever.  I doubt Mom is going to inspect my room with a black light.  I rubbed it into the fibers with my big toe.  I put the dildo on my dresser for a moment, and inspected my hole in the mirror.  It was slightly gaped but didn’t look too bad. 

It made me feel powerful, to know what pleasure my ass gives me, and that I can still enjoy it so much even if SHE doesn’t approve.

It’s too bad so many guys are weird about butt stuff.  They have no idea what they’re missing.  It sure seems like by 11 or 12, every boy should always be a little gaped.  If not, they aren’t boy-ing right because they haven’t realized what their bodies are capable of.  It made me a little mad and sad to think I was almost 14 before I finally discovered my magic button. 

I originally planned to wash and return her toy before she returned home, but fuck it.  You know what?  She took all of my favorite toys away - my phone, computer, PlayStation, TV, and of course, Cam - so I’m going to keep her little joystick.  I’ll need something to get through this week while I’m suspended.  I can only fill so much time with homework. 

Besides, fair is fair.  If she is going to interfere with me having a real penis to get fucked by, she can help facilitate me getting something better than a damn handle.  It’s a risk of course, but serves her right.  If she notices it missing and confronts me, I can just buy her a new one, after I make sure she knows exactly what I did with it and how much I enjoyed how it made me feel.  And if she doesn’t realize it’s gone, that’s fine too.  I’ll forever know she is using something in her twat that was deep in my guts.

I ran to the bathroom to give it a quick rinse before returning to my room.  I tossed it under my bed, fell face forward, and was quickly asleep.

***

I was startled back to consciousness by Mom’s audible gasp.  I opened my eyes to find her standing a few feet from my bed, her hand covering her mouth.  “What do you want?” I asked, perplexed.

“Nothing.  Sorry,” she said as she quickly turned and hustled out of my room.  “I got you some snacks,” she announced as she left.

It wasn’t until she was gone that realized I was still naked from my jerk-off session.  Since I sleep nude most of the time, it didn’t feel unusual to me.  As I rolled over and pulled up the comforter, I noticed I was also semi-hard.  Oh God!  How fucking embarrassing.  This weekend just keeps getting worse.

Even prisoners get some privacy.  Can’t she fucking knock?  I somehow managed to ignore being irritated and resumed my nap.

***

Mom’s voice woke me a half hour later.  She never could talk quietly, especially on the phone.  I used the bathroom and put on some clothes while she gabbed downstairs.  I sat on my bed, pondering what to do.  I decided to clean out my closet.  It had been a year or two since I’d gone through things, and it was past time to purge.  There are a lot of games and toys I’ll never play with again.  I’ll donate them to charity or throw stuff away.  Maybe if Mom sees I am purging all my old toys, she’ll realize I’m not a child anymore.

I’d begun to pull the dusty items from deep in the closet when I heard a knock.  Well, maybe she learned her lesson.  I panicked.  I couldn't remember if I left the dildo out on my dresser.  I turned quickly, and not seeing it, remembered I tossed it under my bed.  But did I close the drawer of her nightstand?  Shit!  Why didn’t I think to check when I first got up?

Mom entered, one of our home phone handsets in her hand.  She didn’t make eye contact.  “Craig is on the phone,” she said, holding it to me.  “Come down when you are through talking.” Apparently, using the home phone to talk to Craig wasn’t part of my grounding. 

“Hello?” I said after I took the receiver.  I couldn’t remember the last time I used our landline.  I almost forgot we still had one.  I don’t think I’ve touched it since I got my iPhone when I turned 12.  Mom gave it to me for my birthday, and said I’d need it since I was in middle school but had to promise to be “appropriate.” We made a contract and everything.  Anyway, she says we keep the old-person phone in case of emergency.  Apparently it’s practically free with our Internet service.

“Hey bud,” Craig replied.  “How you doing?”

“Fine,” I lied. 

“Your Mom told me you had a good conversation,” he commented. 

Good?  I’m not sure I would say it was ‘good’.  Is that really how she framed it?  “It was okay, at first,” I answered, unsure what he knew.  Did he have any idea I never planned to speak to her again?  “I’m grounded, on lockdown in my room, and not supposed to be talking to anyone.”

“I guess since I’m an adult, I get a pass,” he answered with a laugh.  I didn’t think my situation was funny.  “I thought you might like to hear what is going on with Cam and Noah.  I talked to Adam this morning and just got off the phone with Mr. Rice.”

I was eager for news.  “Yeah?” I answered excitedly.

“They’re both grounded, like you.  And neither have their phones, so don’t bother trying to contact them.  Besides, I wouldn’t want you to risk getting into more trouble.”

“I don’t have mine either.  Didn’t Mom tell you?”  

“No, she didn’t mention specifics.  I guess parents have to take away meaningful things to discipline their kids,” he responded.  He paused for a moment, as if considering what to say next.  “None of us think you’re bad kids.  But, you all have to learn there is a time and place for everything.  It’s part of growing up and part of a parent's responsibilities to make sure it happens before you get into really big trouble.” 

For the first time, Craig was sounding more like a normal adult, lecturing me.  Was he really taking her side?

“I’m not upset with Noah for decking that kid.  It sounds like he had it coming.  And obviously I’m okay with Cam sneaking in or I wouldn’t have helped him, but a school function is not the place to swap tongues and grope each other.  That’s...tacky, at best.”

“I knoooow,” I said with a sigh.  Craig piling on wasn’t improving my mood.  I get I messed up, but it was a little thing and I’m paying a huge penalty.  It isn’t fair.  “I didn’t mean to.  It just happened.  So, what happened with Cam?” I asked, trying to shift the focus.

“Olympia made it clear he’s not welcome back on the premises the rest of the school year.  They gave him an official trespass notice, saying he’d be arrested if he came back on campus,” Craig explained.  Wow.  Everyone is overreacting.  That doesn’t seem necessary, to threaten a kid with arrest for going to a school.  “So, don’t plan on inviting him to anything in the future.  I don’t think the school wants to go that route, but I wouldn’t push your luck.”

“Don’t worry.  I doubt he wants to come to my stupid homophobic school again, anyway,” I replied.  “What about his Mom?  Did she completely lose it?”

“Mr. Rice said he had to put his foot down.  She was shocked, but seemed more concerned about what her friends and family will think than about her son’s social or emotional well-being.  I guess she made a comment about being concerned about his eternal soul, which understandably upset Cam,” Craig relayed.  Damn.  I know Cam is more religious than I am, but that seems harsh, for your own mother to say you’re going to hell at 13 for being gay.  Mom is being a bitch but she isn’t that bad.  “Cam’s parents talked well into the night and Bob told her how it was going to be.  She’s still upset, but doesn’t have any options.”

“Does she know Cam and I have been...you know?  Because Mom sure didn’t take that well.  She says I’m too little.”

“Oh?” he answered with surprise.  “Well, moms never want to hear about their kids having sex.  Give her time.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, unsure of what else to say.  “Anything more?”

“Not really.  Bob said Cam can’t wait to be able to spend time with you once he’s off punishment.  I’m sure you feel the same way.”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how we’re ever going to get any alone time,” I replied.  An awkward silence followed.  We’ve had some strained, stressful conversations before, but it’s never been this forced talking to Craig.  I don’t understand why it suddenly seems so awkward. 

“Max,” he said, “I do want to...uh...umm...make sure,” he began.

“No, I didn’t mention anything,” I replied, immediately recognizing his concern.  “Why would you think I would say anything?  Don’t you trust me?”

I heard him release a sigh of relief.  “Good.  Just confirming,” he answered.  “And of course I trust you, but I know in high-stress situations things can just come out sometimes that you’d never say under other circumstances.  Trust, but verify.” That’s fair.  In my anger, I mentioned some specific sex stuff to Mom last night.  I’ve also never brought up her excessive drinking before.  I guess I can understand his point.

“Okay, I better go.  I don’t want to piss off the warden.”

“Sure,” he replied, laughing.  It was clear he had no idea just how irate I was with her.  “Be a good boy, Max.”

I clicked off the phone without further response.  Craig annoyed me a little, but I’m not entirely sure why.  At least I had an idea of what Noah and Cam were dealing with.

I wandered into the hall and listened, trying to determine Mom’s location.  Once I heard her down in the kitchen, I tip-toed to her room.  The nightstand drawer was still partially open.  I gently closed it.  Whew.  I need to be more careful.

***

I took the phone down and returned it to the cradle.  “Max,” Mom called.  “Come here a minute, please.”

“Now what?” I answered hesitantly as I stepped into the kitchen.  I assumed she was going to give me grief about sleeping naked.  It’s not something I’ve ever tried to hide from her, but I also wasn’t sure she realized just how often I indulged in that simple pleasure.  But she didn’t bring it up.

“I know you didn’t ask for anything, but I got you some Ding-Dongs and Nutty Bars anyway.”  She was still trying to soften my anger.  Did she really summon me to show junk food?

“Whatever,” I replied.  Something about cumming like a freight train had taken the edge off my anger.  Plus, Nutty Bars are so damn good.  “They’re in the freezer,” she added.  I opened the freezer and grabbed a package.  “Okay,” I told her, garnering a smile.

“Max, honey, I know you’re still upset, but I really do love you.  More than I can ever describe,” she reminded me.  She seemed on the verge of tears again.  “Nothing will ever change that.”

I wanted to say “well, I fucking hate you,” but couldn’t bring myself to.  Instead, I answered with “so you say,” and retreated to my cell.

***

Later that night, I was in my room staring at a blank piece of paper, trying to come up with ideas for a story.  Mrs. Hickman suggested I try my hand at creative writing something - but what?  I felt like I should try to channel some of my current anguish.  I jotted down a few phrases: “Bullied kid,” “teen comes out,” “homophobic parents,” “kid runs away from home.” None of them seemed like a story idea, but they always say the best way to come up with ideas is to just start throwing things out and see what additional ideas spring from your initial thoughts.

Mom tapped on my door, again.  Would she ever leave me alone to be miserable?  She let herself in.  I quickly closed my notebook.  “Doing homework?” she asked. 

“What else would I be doing?  You took everything I care about away,” I muttered.  My words were blunt but I could tell my tone wasn’t as harsh as I managed last night.  I realized my hostile facade was waning.  Whatever.  She knows I’m still pissed, but being perpetually angry is exhausting. 

“Sorry about when I got home and woke you up from your nap,” she said solemnly.  “But you should at least wear underwear when you sleep.  You don’t live alone, and it’s just basic consideration.”

“It’s my body, on my bed, in my room, behind a closed door.  Why don’t you just stay out of here?” I responded spitefully.  “Or at least knock.  It may be news to you, but I usually sleep naked and have for a long time.  Cam likes it!” It was true, we always slept naked together.  It made the wake-up blowjob much easier.

She grimaced.  I could tell my comment made her uncomfortable.  Excellent. 

“I guess that’s your choice, but I don’t appreciate the attitude.  I pay the mortgage.  I’m the parent.  I’ll go into any room in my house, and I’ll take the door off the hinges if you can’t be appropriate,” she replied in her Mom Tone.  She took a deep breath, realizing she was running the risk of escalating the situation.  “I’m sorry it happened, but I did knock and you didn’t answer, and your door was slightly ajar.  I only came up to tell you about the snacks.”

You’re damn right it’s my choice!  I somehow managed to keep that thought to myself.  She did apologize, twice, even if she played the ‘it’s my house’ card and threatened to take my door.  No way she’d do that, and I’d just parade around the house naked then.  Still, I didn’t see any benefit in arguing about this, and realized mentioning sleeping naked with Cam was probably too much unnecessary detail.  Why do I always say things without thinking?  Now she’ll never let Cam stay over, if that was even ever going to be a possibility.

She leaned against my desk.  “I think I’m going to church tomorrow,” she announced, changing the subject.  “Jillian at work has been nagging me to come with her sometime.  I guess it’s very contemporary, and her kids love it.  I thought maybe we could both go and get brunch after.”

Where was this coming from?  We are not church people.  I think I’d been to a service maybe three times in my life and that was when Grandma drug us on Christmas or Easter, when I was maybe five or six years old.  The last thing I wanted to do was get up early and put on uncomfortable clothes to go sit and listen to some guy who thinks I’m hell-bound lecture everyone about their moral failings. 

“I’ll pass,” I answered as I pushed my chair back from the desk.  While she’s gone, I’ll have another epic masturbation session.

She must have felt the need to explain why she suddenly wanted to attend religious services. 

“Suit yourself.  I just think it might do me - us - some good.  I need clarity and support…from somewhere,” she said, quickly becoming emotional and leaving. 

It was clear my cold shoulder was having an effect.  It was weird, though.  I have been trying to make her feel bad, but now that she is, I feel guilty.  Driving her into the arms of a religion that thinks I’m sinful isn’t what I was trying to accomplish.  Still, I wasn’t ready to thaw yet.  If I hold out, she’s sure to realize I’m not a baby and give me space and freedom to live my life.

***

I hibernated in my room the rest of the night while Mom was busy downstairs.  I’m not sure what she was doing, but there were lots of clanking noises and she made several trips up and down the stairs to the garage.  She must have been rearranging the kitchen or something.  I almost went to investigate, but talked myself out of doing so.  I waited until she went to bed to sneak downstairs for more junk food.

***

I did use her vibrator again once she left to get ‘blessed.’ I still couldn’t see Mom becoming a church goer.  It wasn’t her, at all.  I worried briefly that she might turn into the second coming of Mrs. Rice and come home to tell me I was going to hell for fucking boys.  But even I knew that was unlikely.  Still, it wasn’t lost on me that while she was worshipping God, I was brutalizing my sphincter with her sex toy.  I felt diabolical.  Being so bad only aroused me further.

Sadly for me, the thing died just as I was about to reach another amazing orgasm.  I had to take over manually thrusting it in and out while I finished myself off.  I wondered how long a charge on this thing typically lasted.  I would have to find the charging cable and get it juiced back up.  Maybe I could write a story about a boy who becomes addicted to a dildo?  Hickman might croak on the spot. 

I wiped up the remnants of my play and washed the toy with some soap and water.  I went, still naked, to Mom’s room and rooted through her drawer for the cord.  It was a standard USB.  Since I couldn’t charge my phone, I plugged it into my outlet normally used for that and hid it back under my bed.

***

After I showered, I threw on some underwear and went down to make myself breakfast.  In all my misery, I realized I hadn’t eaten much yesterday.  The Nutty Bars weren’t cutting it.  I whipped up a huge pan of scrambled eggs with some spinach, cheese, and ham mixed in.  Along with three pieces of toast, I was finally full.  I cleaned my skillet and was about to retreat to my cell when I noticed the trash was overflowing.  I shrugged.  Maybe taking out the trash would earn me some points?  I pulled the bag out, tied it off, and took it to the garage.  Something gave me pause.  There was a large box of empty liquor bottles in our recycle bin and another box with four or five full bottles of wine nearby.  What the hell? 

I ran back upstairs to the living room.  Dad always kept a decent stock of various booze in a cabinet by the TV.  I’m not sure what they all were; alcohol never interested me.  It was empty.  Mom completely cleaned it out.  She must have dumped it all down the drain.  That must have been what she was up to last night. 

I could hardly believe it.  My quips about her drinking too much must have really struck a nerve.  Or was this part of her new found religious identity?  Maybe she was concerned I would start drinking if I was suspended and home alone all day?  That pissed me off, that she would assume such a thing. 

I didn’t know what to think.  She mostly drinks wine, and I noticed she didn’t dispose of that.  But, she had boxed it up.  I don’t think she got into Dad’s whiskey or vodka often, so it wasn’t much sacrifice to have those half empty bottles go to waste.  The wine must have been harder to part with.  Perhaps she planned to give it to someone?  Still, it gave me pause.  She clearly did it in response to my criticism.

Knowing I had any sway over her made me feel powerful.  I have to say, it was a pleasant surprise to see that my disapproval had an effect.  Still, I wondered if it was a token gesture.  She’s enjoyed wine and other drinks my entire life.  I know how hard it is not to eat junk food when I’m training hard.  I can’t see her going cold turkey.  But, I don’t suppose she needs to go that far.  I just want her to moderate her drinking, so it doesn’t feel like she’s relying on the booze to get her through a difficult day.  Or talk with me.  Then I felt guilty, knowing that I was a major source of her stress.  I know I have a knack for making things difficult for everyone around me.

***

Mom returned home mid-afternoon.  I was jotting down more ideas for my story.  I’d settled on a tale about gay boy running away from home because his parents refused to accept his homosexuality.  Much of the plot was inspired by the past few months.  I imagined a kid like Cam, only with both his parents having attitudes like Jeanine, leaving him no choice but to split when they tell him they signed him up for conversion camp.  I thought it would make a compelling story if he fell into the hands of someone like Chad, who preys on young boys.  I could certainly write about what that was like. 

I wasn’t sure what else might happen, though.  It dawned on me the boy in my story could be saved by someone like Craig - who normally might have been like Chad, but for some reason takes pity on the boy.  What if the boy and the man save each other somehow?  I didn’t have it all worked out yet, but I felt like I had the skeleton of a meaningful story. 

I heard Mom climbing the stairs, so I closed my notebook and quickly opened my Geometry book.  The story was not something I planned to share with her. 

“I brought you Chipotle for lunch,” she said, stepping through my open door with a burrito.  She normally chastises me for bringing food to my room, but here she was delivering it on a platter.  It isn’t like she even had to buy me lunch while she was out.  Clearly, this was another attempt to smooth things over.

“Okay,” I grumbled, without enthusiasm.  A burrito sounded great, but I was muting my excitement.  “How was the God Squad?  Did you get rescued or saved or whatever they take your money for?” 

“It wasn’t that kind of church, Max,” she replied, setting the food down on my desk.  “Please don’t be flippant about this.  It was uplifting.  I needed a friend, and Jillian is always there for me.” I guess it’s better for her to lean on a friend than a bottle of merlot.

“Oh.  Well, I better get back to work,” I answered without affect.  I wanted to ask her about the alcohol disposal, but wasn’t sure how to bring it up.  Mostly I just wanted to be alone.  It’s so awkward being around her right now.

***

I stayed up late putting the finishing touches on my closet reorg and jotting down a few more ideas for my short-story.  I barely had time to eat breakfast and smooth down my hair before Mom summoned me to leave for our meeting at school.  I threw on a t-shirt and some old sweats.  I figured I could shower when I get back home, maybe after I take her dildo for another ride.  I was looking forward to ravishing my anus in peace. 

Mom parked at the school a few minutes before 10.  The visitor spots were already taken and we ended up in the back of the teacher lot.  “We’re waiting for the Reeds so we can go in together,” Mom informed me.  At least I would see Noah, if only for a few minutes.  Maybe we could scheme some way to talk while our rents went to work.  Could it be as simple as using our landlines?  Although, I wasn’t even sure if Noah had a home phone. 

Adam pulled in next to us.  I saw Noah smiling at me from the back seat.  He didn’t appear to have any bruises or scars, so that’s good.  We both jumped out at the same time, our car doors barely avoiding a collision.

“Hey,” I said as we started walking towards the school, ahead of our parents.  “I heard you’re grounded.”

“Oh yeah, but I knew that would happen.  You?”

“Same.  But hey, dumb question.  Do you guys have a home phone?  You could call me on ours when our rents are gone.”

“Nah, we ditched ours a few years ago.  Craig is the only person I know who still has one.  But,” he said, suddenly having a thought.  “I could run next door to call you from there.  I know their garage code.  What’s your home number?” I had to think for a moment to recall it.  Noah repeated it back to me three times.  I hoped his memory was good.  Things were looking up. 

“We can talk all afternoon, and maybe even jerk together!” I said excitedly.  Noah looked at me and laughed.  He clearly thought I was joking. 

The look on my face must have made him realize I was serious.  “Dude, what the eff?” he asked.  “I really am straight, you know.”

“I know.  Sorry, I’m just THAT fucking bored I guess,” I answered, trying not to sound like I was horny for him.

He was briefly silent.  “Well, I guess if I do it online for random girls and have you blow me, doing it together on the phone shouldn’t be a big deal.  Maybe it’ll be fun.  We can make a game out of it, like see who comes the fastest or something.”  

“Yeah, or who shoots the farthest, or the most,” I added, trying to increase his interest.

“Or who can do it the most times in a row.  I can pretend I’m building up my stamina for Ashley.”

I rolled my eyes.  It’s always about fucking girls for him.  Straight guys are weird.  But whatever.  This would be fun!

Still, I wasn’t thrilled he was still camming, but knew we didn’t have time to talk about that.  Maybe later.  Jacking off together even on the phone might be bonding.  I know we’ve already gone further than that, but that’s always one sided and this would be mutual.  Plus, I’ve seen Noah’s face when he cums, and can always tell when he’s close because he starts breathing heavier and his voice goes higher.  I wonder if I’ll notice it the same way without the benefit of his twitching dick in my mouth?

“I’ll totally have you beat.  I found Mom’s vibrator and it’s awesome,” I bragged.  I would have an advantage. 

Noah looked at me with horror.  “Dude, I know you like butt stuff, but really?  Your Mom’s dildo?  That’s twisted.  Are you that desperate?”

I glared at him.  “I know it might seem gross, but I washed it before,” I lied.  I honestly couldn’t remember if I had, I was so horned up and enraged before the first time, but I’m sure she cleaned it the last time she used it.  Right?  “Besides, it feels so good.  And I’m pissed at her, so it makes me feel better.” I probably sounded more defensive than I meant to, but who was he to judge when he’s never tried it and shows his junk to random strangers on the Internet?

Noah shrugged.  “Whatever dude, just seems weird and disrespectful to me.  Stacy would freak if she knew that.” Yes, that was part of the appeal.

Our parents caught up to us before we could speak more.  It was odd, seeing them all in dressier work clothes.  It seemed more official or solemn than Friday night, and that was nerve wracking enough. 

We followed them into the office, which was much different this morning.  Being a normal school day, it was bustling with activity.  The phones were ringing and the secretaries were pecking away at their keyboards.  There were several students in different areas, who I assumed were in various degrees of trouble.  Having never spent much time in any school office, I wasn’t sure what was typical.

Mom and Lisa checked in while Adam, Noah, and I sat down.  Noah seemed to grimace as he sat.  I looked at him questioningly.  “I put him to work, as part of his punishment,” Adam explained.  “He hasn’t been spanked since the...incident when he was 10, if that’s what you’re wondering.” 

Noah looked mortified by his father’s comment.  I remember that!  I haven’t thought about it in years, but I was over at their house when it happened. 

We were hungry for a late snack, and Noah was craving grilled cheese.  He asked his Mom to make us some, but she told him no and suggested we heat up a bag of popcorn in the microwave instead.  He ignored her recommendation and decided to make them himself.  Only, he came down to the basement to tell me something after he put them on and got distracted.  Next thing we knew, the smoke detectors were blaring and Jackson was putting out the flaming sandwiches in the sink.  A spatula was also a casualty.  The odor of burnt toast and cheese mixed with melted plastic and butter is permanently seared into my memory. 

I have never seen Adam so angry.  He immediately yanked Noah by the arm and dragged him to a kitchen chair, pulled down his underwear and shorts in one swift motion, bent him over his knee, and used his bare hand to spank him right on the spot.  I remember how loud it was, the smack of flesh and Noah’s shrieks.  He was crying harder than I’ve ever seen before, or since - out of pain or humiliation, I’m not sure.  Needless to say, our sleepover was canceled and Lisa took me home.  To this day, we’ve never talked about it.

Thinking back, it dawned on me how small Noah’s penis still was then.  We’ve both changed a lot in that department the last year or so.  It was funny to remember back before I was obsessed with cocks.  Pondering that scene triggered a peculiar recollection: watching my best friend getting spanked gave me a stiffie.  Did I really tuck that little detail away somewhere in my brain?  It almost felt like deja vu, as if I were back in Noah’s kitchen all over again, adjusting the small tent in my sweatpants.  I wondered why.  Seeing him naked?  Just the excitement and tension of the fire and him being spanked?  God, I’m not some pyro masochist pervert, am I? 

“Yeah, I helped carry some heavy sh… stuff out to the dump and dig up an old stump in the yard.  I’m still sore,” Noah added.

“It builds character,” Adam growled.  “No whining.  And watch your mouth.”

Noah looked down in embarrassment.  “Yes, sir.”

Mom sat down next to me, Lisa beside her.  I could tell she was anxious.  A mom and daughter came into the office, signing her in from an ortho appointment.  The woman gazed at us.  I wondered if word had gotten out to parents about what happened Friday night.  Was this lady looking us over, wondering if we were the troublemakers?  Or the homosexuals?  Mom must have felt the eyes upon her, because she quickly looked away in shame.

Mr. Tim walked towards us.  He seemed happy, which put me at ease.  I think getting to know him might be the best thing to come from this whole thing.  He was well regarded amongst students, but I didn’t know he was so cool.  “Ms.  Coleman, Max,” he said, addressing us.  “We’ll meet with you first, and won’t be long,” he added to the Reeds.  “Come with me please,” he requested.

He led us back to the same conference room we met in on Friday.  It was much less crowded with just Mom and I, Mr. Tim, and Mr. Johnson.  Where was Bach?  Mom and I looked towards the door and then back towards each other.  Principal Johnson must have read our minds.  “Mrs. Bach won’t be able to join us this morning.” What the hell did that mean?

Mr. Tim closed the door and sat down.  “This should be brief,” Mr. Johnson began.  He waited for Mr. Tim to take his seat.  “We’ve done a complete investigation and review of the incidents on Friday,” he explained.  “We’ve also re-examined the consequences that were assigned and made adjustments.  I think you’ll be happy, as we’ve changed Max’s suspension from out-of-school to in-school, and reduced the length from five days to three.  This brings Max’s consequences in line with those who behaved similarly.” I assumed he meant Ashley.  And anyone who isn’t gay. 

“Oh, thank the lord,” Mom exclaimed, squeezing my arm.  She’s really leaning into this religion thing.  “Isn’t that great, honey?  See, things work out.”

I was dumbfounded.  No, it wasn’t ‘great’.  I just made secret plans to talk on the phone with Noah, hopefully for hours, and have an epic jerk-off contest.  Now they want me to go to ISS to be bored all day?  “Um...uh...I didn’t bring any of my books or materials with me,” I complained.  “I didn’t even shower this morning,” I added, looking for any excuse to return home.  “Maybe I should just stay home today and start ISS tomorrow?”

“We’d much rather have you in school, Mr. Coleman,” Mr. Johnson interjected.

“Right,” Mr. Tim added.  “Besides, you’re fine.  Nobody will see you in ISS, anyway.  We have copies of all textbooks and I’ll personally retrieve your assignments directly from your teachers this morning.  The ISS room has supplies, and you’ll be much more productive this way.”

“That’s great.  Thank you so much for making this change.  I’m appreciative, and I’m sure Max is, too.  Max, what do you say?” God, Mom was being so extra.

“Oh, um, thanks,” I managed to mumble.  I might have been going crazy, but I was sure I saw Mr. Tim wink at me. 

“If neither of you have any questions, I will escort Max to ISS and you can be on your way,” Mr. Tim offered.

“Thank you again.  I’m so relieved and grateful,” Mom replied, offering her hand, which both Mr. Tim and Mr. Johnson shook. 

“Ready then?” he asked

“Have a good day, sweetie, and make good choices,” Mom reminded me.  She always says that to me before school.  It’s never really annoyed me before now.  “I’ll see you at home later.  I won’t be late tonight.”

“What, is the bar closed?  Don’t forget to pick up my ankle monitor, Warden!” I spat as I turned my back and stormed out of the office.  I knew I was leaning into criticizing her drinking too much, but dammit, it seems to be working.

***

Mr. Tim followed me out of the office.  Noah stared as we walked toward the door.  It was clear he couldn’t figure out what was going on.  “I’m getting ISS instead,” I told him as I angrily pushed the office door open and marched into the foyer.  I stopped and waited for Mr. Tim, who was a few feet behind me.  I realized I wasn’t even sure where the ISS classroom was.

“Max, what was that?  Calm down,” he said.  “ISS isn’t so bad.  The guy who runs it is okay,” he said with a grin.  “I expected you to be pleased your sentence was reduced.”

“I just had it in my head I would be home, alone.  That’s a lot better than being locked in a room all day.” 

“I get it.  But you will stay caught up this way, and in-school suspensions don’t go on your permanent record the same way.  In the long run, this is better,” he explained as he led me down a short corridor leading behind the main offices.  “Besides, I pushed strongly for this, sticking my neck out for you.  Do NOT make me look bad.”

Shit.  I didn’t realize that.  I guess I must seem like a brat.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to seem ungrateful, I’m just surprised is all,” I offered sheepishly. 

“You don’t need to apologize - to me,” Mr. Tim said in a sterner tone than I had heard from him before.  What was he getting at?  “However, you were just incredibly rude to your Mom.  I don’t know what is going on between you - and we can talk about it later if you want - but I am very disappointed in how you just conducted yourself.”

My stomach was suddenly in knots, but he wasn’t finished. 

“I talk to a ton of kids and parents every day.  I can tell she loves you deeply and treats you well,” he said before pausing as if to choose his next words very deliberately.  “Trust me.  There are a lot of kids who don’t have that.  Despite whatever else you have going on, you’re fortunate to have such a loving parent.  On Friday, you had four adults here in an instant who had your back, and that’s how you treat them?”

His question was rhetorical, but he let it linger in the air before continuing.  “I want to be very clear: you will never be so disrespectful to your mother or any other adult in my presence ever again, and you will be writing her an apology letter.  Do you understand?”

I was stunned.  Mr. Tim had been so chill until now.  Still, I didn’t feel like I was being lectured or looked down on, just that he was stating facts.  I can’t explain it.  It made me feel like shit that I disappointed him. 

“Yes, sir,” was all I could manage to squeak.  I couldn’t look him in the eyes.  “I know it’s a lame excuse, but it’s been a long few days and I’m stressed.”

“I understand, and I’m not angry.  Even good kids make mistakes and have lapses in judgment.  I just want to be completely transparent about my expectations,” he said in his more normal, happier tone.  “Besides, I’m trying to convince Principal Johnson to let you sponsor Cam for a future dance.  Assuming you stay out of trouble and follow the proper procedures, of course.”

My ears perked.  I looked up and reflexively smiled.  That was a possibility?

“Really?  I thought he was threatened with arrest if he came back to Olympia, and I wouldn’t be allowed to go to another event,” I said, genuinely confused.

“He was trespassed, but exceptions can be made,” Mr. Tim stated.  “And that’s one reason I fought so hard to keep you in-school, instead of being put out.  You will be barred from SNOs the rest of the first quarter, and on the no-dance list for Halloween, but with ISS it isn’t as long of a ban.”

He took a breath.  I wasn’t sure what to say, but knew I was grinning like an idiot.

“You mentioned planning to attend dances together this year, as a way to come out.  I think that’s really brave and cool, provided you go through the correct channels,” Mr. Tim explained as he playfully elbowed my side.  “I know you didn’t try to sneak him in or start any trouble.  Mr. Johnson agreed to consider letting you submit Cam’s name as a guest next semester, so long as you both stay completely out of trouble.  He said he would call the Headmaster of Widmer himself, to verify.  I guess they’re old friends.”

Wow.  Mr. Tim always seemed cool, but I never expected he would go to this length.  “I thought that plan was dead, at least for middle school.  I don’t know what to say, besides thank you for helping me.  I promise I’ll try not to mess up again.”

“I know you will, which is why I was willing to advocate on your behalf,” he said before offering me a fist bump, which I readily returned.

***

He led me into a small room.  There were six study carrels with dividers - like they have in the library.  Ashley was seated in the furthest corner.  She looked up when we entered and smiled.

“Hi Ashley,” I said.  I forgot she’d be here.  Maybe with her, ISS wouldn’t be horrible.

“Shhhh!  No talking!”  It was Mrs. Paul, one of the lunch monitors.  Or, should I say, one of the mean lunch monitors.  I guess she supervises the ISS room too?  That wasn’t who I had in mind when Mr. Tim proclaimed the room was supervised by someone cool. 

“Max, this will be your seat the next three days,” Mr. Tim said, pointing to the desk two seats away from Ashley.  “First thing, you need to finish the ISS reflection sheet.  Use complete sentences.  You’ll redo it if you don’t do it correctly the first time.  Mrs. Paul can get you paper and pencils.  Once you’re finished, work on any school work, or there are books on the back shelf if you don’t have anything else.  Just pick one and read quietly until I come back with your assignments.  Later, we’ll work on your apology letter.”

Before he turned to leave, I wanted to make sure I understood something.

“Mr. Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“You said we could talk later if I wanted, right?  Were you serious?  Can we, you know, discuss stuff?” I felt a little thirsty asking, but there was just something about him.  I knew I could trust him, and he’d give good advice, just like Craig. 

“Absolutely.  There’s plenty of time over the next few days.  When you’re caught up on your class work and between work details, we’ll carve out some time,” he responded, patting my shoulder.  “I’ll be back.  Knock out your SEL sheet while I’m gone.”  

***

I spent several minutes on the reflection.  It was double sided.  Ugh.  But, I tried to seem contrite.  I might as well not get myself into any more trouble.

I’d already exhausted all of my known homework over the weekend.  I worked ahead so I could enjoy having the house to myself while Mom went to work.  I went to the shelf and perused the titles.  There were a lot of popular young adult titles: The Hunger Games trilogy, Maze Runner, stuff like that.  I’d read all of them back in sixth grade.  Maybe I could mindlessly reread one of those.  Then a thick book on the end of the shelf caught my eye.  “The Count of Monte Cristo (Abridged Edition),” by Alexander Dumas.  I flipped through it.  430 pages.  Damn, I’d hate to see the full version. 

I pulled it off and read the back cover: “The Classic Tale of Revenge…” I could use a good revenge story right now.

***

It was almost an hour later when Mr. Tim finally returned.  “Thanks Mrs. Paul,” he said as he entered.  “Sorry it took so long.  I had to wait for Miss Rathbun to print off some things.” 

Mrs. Paul sneered.  “I’ve missed my break,” was all she said before darting out.  Wow.  She’s even a bitch to Mr. Tim.  It wasn’t like she did anything but wig on the computer, anyway. 

He had a packet for each of us.  Each of our teachers had filled out a form outlining our assignments for the next three days.  As I thumbed through the sheets, I realized I had completed much of the work over the weekend.  The geometry problems through Wednesday still didn’t catch up to where I stopped yesterday.  Honesty, if I put my mind to it, I would be done with all of it before the end of the day.  Possibly even before lunch.

“What do you think?” Mr. Tim asked.  “Manageable?”

“Piece of cake,” I replied.  “I did most of this over the weekend already.  My Mom took away everything and homework was something to fill time.  But I didn’t bring it with me.”

“You can turn it in tomorrow,” he said, giving me a look, perhaps as a warning that I better not be lying.  Or maybe he was just sizing me up.  “With some kids, I might wonder if they were feeding me a line of bull, but I can tell you’re being honest.” 

“I am.  Promise,” I replied with a smile.

“He’s not lying, Mr. Tim,” Ashley interjected.  “Max isn’t like that.  He has a rep for being straight with people.”  She giggled, realizing her poor word choice.  “Sorry!” she said to me in a whisper.  “I just meant, everyone knows you’re kind and honest.”

“It’s okay,” I mouthed.

“I know,” Mr. Tim replied.  “Now, you should both get to work while I review your reflections.  We’ll discuss your answers and see if you need to make revisions.”

***

After lunch, Ashley had to watch a video and do a worksheet for social studies.  She had just put on headphones and started the video when Mr. Tim called me over to him and patted the chair next to his desk. 

“Making good progress on your homework?” he asked. 

“Yeah.  Honestly, I was just about to start reading.  I’ve got a tiny bit of science left, but I can finish that tomorrow,” I replied, “If that’s okay.”  I wasn’t sure if you were allowed to pace your work in ISS.  Maybe you had to do it all ASAP.

“That’s fine,” he answered.  “I can tell keeping you busy for three days will be a challenge.  Anyway, while Ashley is busy with her video, it might be a good time to talk.”

“Great,” I answered in a perkier tone than intended. 

“I read your reflection sheet and thought your answers were fine, at least in regards to what happened at SNO.” 

“Thanks.  Other than making out with Cam, I really didn’t do anything.  Plus, he kissed me first,” I said.  That wasn’t exactly true.  There was also the outburst with Mrs. Bach.  I didn’t address that.  I assumed he’d be pointing that out shortly. 

“What was I supposed to do?” I continued.  “I mean, you’ve seen him.  Can you blame me?” I wasn’t sure how he’d take that, but thought going for levity might play well.  It also kept the conversation away from the outrageous (if justified) things I said to Mrs. Bach.

He didn’t react, which made me feel kind of stupid.  “I know you didn’t start it.  But it’s important for you to understand that kissing at school is still wildly inappropriate.  I don’t care for the way Mrs. Bach characterized it, but you need to realize there are a lot of sixth graders around who are still incredibly naive.  It probably was a shock to them to see people making out, and we did get a few phone calls from upset parents.  Even if other peers didn’t care, most staff think it’s gross to see any kid doing anything even remotely sexual.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied.  Would parents really call to complain?  Because of kissing or because there were two gay boys kissing?  “But a lot of sixth graders know a lot more than I did two years ago.”  I was specifically thinking about Spencer, Ian, and Josh.  Of course, Josh might be more clueless if I hadn’t taken him under my wing.

He nodded.  “For sure.  Sixth graders do inappropriate things as well.  And unplanned pregnancies can certainly happen, even in middle school.” 

“Oh wow.  That would be awful.  At least I don’t have to worry about that,” I answered, grinning.  “Kind of fun to try, though.”

Oh shit.  Why do I keep saying sexual stuff I shouldn’t?  Maybe Craig is right to worry.  Mr. Tim’s reaction was interesting.  He looked like he was simultaneously amused and shocked, but trying very hard to keep his face neutral.

“I guess that is one advantage,” he replied with an awkward laugh.  “But there are still serious diseases everyone has to be concerned about.”

“I know.  Craig lectured me about safe sex.”

“Good.  He seems like a nice guy.  You’re lucky to have him.”

“Oh yeah.  He’s awesome.  More of a dad than my own father ever was,” I said bitterly.

There was an awkward pause.  “So, you clearly wanted to talk.  Things with your mother seemed tense.  You don’t have to, but do you want to tell me what’s going on?” He asked.  “She seems to be behind you 100 percent, but Mr. Johnson said she was almost in tears after we left this morning.”

“She was?” I suddenly felt a surge of shame.

“Yes.  I wouldn’t make that up, and you were pretty vicious to her.  I thought you two were in a good place Friday night.  She, Mr. Peters, and Noah’s parents all seemed supportive and accepting.  I know you said she didn’t know you were gay, but she sure didn’t seem bothered by that on Friday.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind that I’m gay, per se,” I answered.

“Okay, so what is it?”

“Well, for starters, she grounded me and took all my electronics.  I finally got back with Cam, and now I can’t even talk to him!” I answered, displaying some frustration.  I must have sounded ridiculously petulant, because he gave me a look.

“I hardly think a grounding is inappropriate.  You did misbehave, right?”

“Yeah, but -”

“But what?  Noah’s parents did the same to him.  Most parents - good parents - give consequences at home when their child gets in trouble at school.”

“I know,” I answered.  “And I heard Cam is grounded too.”

“So, see?  I get your frustration, but it’s not completely unfair, is it?” It was one of those questions you could only answer one way.

“No,” I acquiesced, sighing.  Plus, Mom has been doing little things all weekend to be nice: junk food, lunch, getting rid of the alcohol, and even offering to bring me to church.  Mr. Tim’s earlier admonishment already had me feeling bad.  The more we talked, the more he seemed to be turning up the guilt dial.  It was like a fucking art form.  It seems so strange that someone I barely knew three days ago held such sway, but Mr. Tim was just one of those people you didn’t want to disappoint.  For some reason, his approval and opinion matters.

“I’ve worked with kids a long time, and have gotten pretty good at reading them.  I have a feeling it’s not just the grounding.  Is there something more?” he asked.

I paused.  Did I really want discuss gay sex with him?  I was getting a vibe he might be gay himself.  He was almost too understanding.  If I had more guts I would ask.

“Well,” I finally mumbled.

He looked at me, waiting for me to continue.  I hesitated.  “Listen, if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.  You are under no obligation to talk about your personal life with me.  I just thought, from earlier, you might want to get some things off your chest.  I’ll listen and try to be nonjudgmental, but also challenge you to see it from the other side.”

“It’s just kind of hard to talk about,” I said before taking a deep breath.  “See, Mom doesn’t mind that I’m gay, she just doesn’t like me acting on it.”

“You mean she thinks you’re too young to have a boyfriend?”

“No, she likes Cam,” I answered.  “But, she thinks I’m too young to have sex.”

“Oh,” he said, a look of understanding dawning across his face.  “So, the two of you were already...?”

“Yeah.  But Mom says she won’t allow us to be alone together anymore.  We used to have sleepovers all the time.  Cam’s Mom is also super homophobic.  Now it will be impossible to ever do stuff,” I whined.  “What’s the point of having a boyfriend if we can’t do anything?”

“I can see how it would be upsetting to do things you enjoy, and then be told you have to stop.  But there’s more to having a relationship than just physical stuff, right?”

“Yeah, of course.  I mean we’re best friends too.  We do gymnastics together, talk and hang out, and play too much Call of Duty, normal boy stuff like that.”

“See?  Those are things you can still do,” he said, trying to be reassuring.  “I’m not going to get into whether it’s appropriate to be sexually active, but it’s not like you aren’t facing the same problem as any other couple your age.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think anyone your age has parents who condone them engaging in sexual activities?”

“No,” I answered.  Adults always freak about sex.  I think that’s one reason Craig is so easy to connect with, he isn’t so high strung about everything. 

“Of course not,” he agreed.  “But do you think some kids your age are still having sex?”

“Not a ton, but some for sure.”

“Right.  I’m not naive.  I’m sure your Mom isn’t, either.  Kids often do things adults don’t like or approve of.  If they didn’t, I’d be out of a job,” he laughed.  “One of my favorite quotes is from Thomas Paine, one of the founding fathers.  He wrote, ‘what you gain too cheaply, you esteem too lightly’.” 

It took me a moment to process what he was getting at.  He clearly couldn’t seem to be encouraging me to sneak around or be sexually active, but I think I understood what he was alluding to. 

He was right.  Whenever we manage to find the opportunity… it’s gonna be amazing.  Maybe it would make every time even more special than it already was.  Is that even possible?  “I never thought of it like that.”

“Everything has a silver lining, if you look for it.  Just don’t let me hear about you getting caught doing it in the back of a movie theater or something.  Every year we have students caught doing that.”

“Never,” I answered.  “That’s too much.  Cam and I started our relationship at a movie, but we just held hands.  I can’t imagine actually doing anything sexual in public like that.  Well, maybe kissing would be okay.”

“People expect some making out in the back row.  But anything beyond that is tacky,” he said.  ‘Tacky’ was the same word Craig used to describe it.  It’s like they share a brain.  “So, you two met through gymnastics?”

I spent the next several minutes walking Mr. Tim through the evolution of our relationship.  From the first months of hating each other through our first date at the movie.  He listened with rapt attention as I told him about crushing on Cam but having to keep it a secret, and how he was doing the same thing. 

“We had been exploring a little, but it wasn’t until an overnight gymnastics tournament out of state we started to do more.  And we didn’t go...all the way until my birthday this summer.” 

“I see,” he said neutrally.  “And you told your mother all this?”

"Sort of.  The whole part about falling for each other had her completely enthralled.  She just wasn’t ready to hear about her baby getting laid,” I said with a grin. 

“Naturally.  You can’t really hold that against her though, can you?  I know you think 14 seems like you’re almost grown, and I try my best not to treat students like little kids, but trust me: a few years from now you’ll look at kids your age now and think they are super young.”

I nodded, thought I wasn’t sure I agreed.  “Mr. Tim, can I ask you something?  It’s personal.”

“I may not be able to answer, but you can ask.”

“Are you...you know… gay too?” 

He laughed.  “Well, if I am, my fiancé - who is female - would be shocked by the news.” 

“Oh,” I replied blushing.  “Sorry.  You just seemed so cool about everything, I thought maybe…”

“No worries.  I’m straight, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be an ally.  Hopefully, someday we will be to the point where people can ask that without it being a big deal.  It shouldn’t matter,” he stated.  “Some of my best friends from college are gay and seeing them discriminated against and ridiculed made me an advocate.”

“That’s cool,” I answered.  “I really appreciate you being so nice to me.”

“You’re welcome.  I have no problem standing up for LGBT kids.  It bothers me any time I see a story in the news about a gay youth who commits suicide because they were bullied or not accepted, at home or school or wherever.  I figure any support can help.  I just want our students to be themselves, happy, and live up to their full potential.  And from all I hear and have observed, you have tons of it.”

I smiled.  He was so easy to open up to, just like Craig.  It made me wonder if he had similar attractions and that helped him to be so cool with kids?

“You sound like Craig.  And my Mom,” I said.

“So, I’m in good company?” he asked.  It was definitely more of a question than a statement.

“Definitely.  I know Mom loves and wants what she thinks is best for me.  But that’s what Cam is!  He makes me better,” I said emphatically.

“I understand.  And you feel like not being able to have a physical component to your relationship will hamper that.  But did she tell you that you could never see him again?” he asked pointedly. 

“Well, no.  But she said I wouldn’t be allowed to have sleepovers with or be behind closed doors with a girlfriend, so now it’s the same rule for Cam,” I answered.  I know we had already discussed this, but I hadn’t repeated exactly what she said.  Talking about it was getting me riled up.

“So, she’s treating you exactly how she would if you were heterosexual?  Isn’t that a good thing?”

Oof.  I know that’s how she framed it, but in my anger, I hadn’t connected those dots. 

“Give her some grace.  I know that’s easier said than done, especially when you’re frustrated and disappointed,” he suggested.  “She’s clearly trying.  It sure sounds like she’s handling things much better than many other parents in her position.”

I shifted in my seat.  He had a point.

“I guess that’s true.  She told me she loved me and always would, no matter what,” I relayed.  “I know my Dad wouldn’t have reacted that way.”

I don’t think Mr. Tim expected me to mention my father.  He didn’t immediately respond.  Maybe after my freak out on Bach when she compared me to him, he felt compelled to proceed cautiously. 

“Like I said, you’re lucky to have her.  And Mr. Peters.  And the Reeds,” he reiterated.  “I won’t pretend to know what it’s like to be in your shoes, about either being gay or your Dad, but I do know you have a bunch of adults in your corner who care about and believe in you.  And in case it isn’t clear, that now includes me,” he said as he reached over to ruffle my hair.

I wasn’t sure what to say, but he’s right.  For all the shitty things that have happened, I am lucky.  I may be angry with Mom, but I never seriously questioned whether she loved me.  And I know I’m fortunate to have Craig and the Reeds, too.

“Mr. Tim?”

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“I know this might be an odd thing to ask, and I understand if it isn’t appropriate or you aren’t allowed to, but…” I trailed off, looking down.

“Yes, you can have a hug,” he said.  How did he know?  “But, it has to be something you initiate, brief, and it’s supposed to be from the side.”

We both stood.  I thought with the rules it would feel awkward, or rushed, but it didn’t.

“Thanks for listening and being cool about everything,” I said as my voice cracked.  I was determined not to cry.  “Can we, you know, keep getting to know each other better?  I don’t need to be in ISS, do I?”

“Sure thing.  But if you get yourself suspended again, you may not want to talk to me,” he said with a laugh but in a tone that told me he was serious.

“Yes, sir.  I don’t like getting in trouble or the drama that comes with it,” I assured him.

“Good, because some people do like to get in trouble and the attention that comes from it,” he explained.  “Now, how about you start on the apology letter?”

I nodded, grabbed a blank piece of paper, and returned to my desk.

***

The rest of the school day was mostly uneventful.  I knocked out the apology letter, but who knows if I’ll actually give it to her.  I was still vehemently opposed to her ‘rule’ about Cam, but understood she wasn’t doing anything most parents wouldn’t.  I focused my efforts mostly on the moments I was overtly hostile, saying rude and disrespectful things, and threw in a line thanking her for buying me snacks and lunch. 

“If you want another pair of eyes to proofread, I’m happy to,” Mr. Tim offered.  “But I completely understand if you aren’t comfortable with me reading it.”

I thought for a moment.  After discussing sex and my relationship with my parents, it seemed a little odd to be shy now.  Still, I just didn’t want to get into it.

“Thank you, but if it’s okay, I’d like to keep it between just her and I,” I responded.

“No explanation necessary.  It’s totally your choice,” he said smiling.  “I could tell you worked hard on it, and that’s all I care about.  I completely understand some things are private.”

I sat and read most of the afternoon.  For a book written almost two centuries ago, the story was surprisingly good and I found myself enjoying it more than I expected.  The main character, Dantes, is a first mate on a ship and ends up in some island jail after he is framed by one of his crewmates and a crooked judge.  I expected it to be difficult to read, but it wasn’t.  Time flew. 

Mr. Tim said we’d do some work details the next couple of days, but since we’d been so well behaved today, he’d defer it.

About thirty minutes before dismissal, the phone in the classroom rang.

“Okay.  Got it.  I’ll let him know.”

There were only two males in the room, so the ‘him’ he referenced had to be me.  I turned to face his desk, my ears perked.

“Max, your Mom called the office.  She asked us to give you a message, to not to take the bus home today because Craig will pick you up by the flagpole,” Mr. Tim explained.

“Understood.  Thanks!” I responded with excitement.  Craig and I may have had an awkward conversation this weekend, but then, perhaps it just seemed that way because of my shitty mood.  Besides, it would be good to catch up.  Maybe we could even get a Blizzard or something as a last hurrah, before gymnastics starts back up.  Or, maybe we could talk about me getting my own toy.  After talking with Mr. Tim, I felt bad about using hers, but knew I’d need something.  I’m not a monk.

As weird and boring as the last few days have been, it was fun to think about the sense of normalcy I’d achieve this afternoon with Craig, however fleeting it might be. 

Shortly before the bell rang, Mr. Tim addressed Ashley and I.  “It looks like we’ll have a younger student joining us for the next two days.  I’m sure you’ll be good role models,” he said.  That was vague.  “But, since you’ve been so good today, I’ll let you come here yourself after the second bell, rather than waiting for me in the office as soon as you arrive.  That will give you a few minutes with your friends.”

He took something out of his desk and scribbled on it.  “Here, take these.  If a staff member stops you for being in the halls, show them this,” he said holding up a small pass.  He had written our names, signed it, and put tomorrow’s date.  “We don’t give out many of these, but when students in ISS have been as good as you two were today, it’s a small way to let you have some social interaction.”

Ashley and I both smiled and said “thank you” simultaneously.  “Can I take this book home,” I added, holding up the thick paperback.  “I’m kind of getting into this.”  I’d spent most of the last hour engrossed in the book.  A fellow prisoner was helping Dantes escape, and told him about a hidden treasure.

“Of course,” Mr. Tim replied.  “Just make sure it gets returned.”

The dismissal bell sounded.  My first day of ISS was done!

“See you tomorrow,” Mr. Tim said as we stood to leave.  “Be careful in the morning.  I know there are five minutes before the tardy bell, but you need to be here pronto.  If you’re late to ISS without a pass, it’s an automatic detention or even another day in here,” he explained.

We nodded.  I told Ashley goodbye and that Noah missed her but was grounded.  She grinned. 

By then, school was over, and since I had nothing to get from my locker, I headed straight for outside.  After the intensity of the last few days, I couldn’t wait to chill with Craig. 

*** End of Chapter 31 ***

Author’s Notes:

See below for Max's Reflective exercise from ISS. Comments as always encouraged: craigpnifty@protonmail.com

 

 


OLYMPIA MIDDLE SCHOOL REFLECTIVE EXERCISE


Please answer the following questions in complete sentences.  You should show thought and effort. 

 

1.) Describe what happened:

 

I was at SNO on Friday and my boyfriend started kissing me and I didn’t stop him.  He wasn’t allowed to be there but came to surprise me.  We just got back together and I let my emotions overcome me.  I was not thinking and started to rub his chest under his shirt.  It was not appropriate.

 

2.) Describe the rule(s) you broke:

 

I broke the rule about excessive displaying of affection.

 

 

3.) What were you thinking and feeling at the time? 

 

I wasn’t thinking.  That was kind of the problem ☹ I was excited to be back with my boyfriend and didn’t think about what we were doing or who might be watching.  I know most people don’t want to watch anyone kiss. But, I felt really happy to be reunited and while we were kissing. Brady was being a jerk before and that made me kinda mad and sad too.

 

4.) What have you thought about the incident, since?  What can you do next time you’re in a similar situation?

 

There won’t be a next time.  I know I shouldn’t kiss at school.  I’m embarrassed I behaved like that.  I know other students and teachers don’t want to watch people make out.

 

I also learned that more people than I thought are homophobic, even grown ups who should be better. 

 

 

 

 

5.) Who did your actions impact, and how?  Think not only about yourself or other students, but your teachers, the principal, security, your parents, etc.

 

I probably grossed out a bunch of students and the chaperones at the dance.  It was probably the first time some of them saw two boys kissing.  But some of them might have liked it too.

 

My teachers will be disappointed in me because they expect me to set a good example.  Earlier that day, my geometry teacher asked me to help a new student around because he thought I was one of the good kids.  Now he might wonder if that was wise.  I also caused a lot of extra work for the principal and Mr. Tim.  I’m sorry.

 

I know I stressed out my mom and other important adults, and my best friend and bf and a couple of other friends got in trouble for trying to defend me,.

 

6.) What about this experience has been most difficult for you?

 

A lot.  First, I guess I just came out to the whole school, and I still don’t know how that will go.  I had to come out to my mom, which was scary.  But the worst part was just waiting in the office for my mom to come knowing I was in trouble.  The other part that was hard was knowing my best friend Noah got in big trouble too when he was just trying to help me out.

Being grounded at home for being inappropriate and disrespectful sucks.

Some of the things other people said to or about me made me feel bad.

 

7.) What can you do to make things better?

 

I should apologize to people I offended and to the staff that had to deal with me.   I also need to apologize to my mom, for lots of things.

 

 I’m not sorry I’m gay, but know I didn’t handle things like I should have.

                                

 

                   

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