WEDNESDAY, APRIL 4, 2018

"Hey," said Derek when Trajan came out to meet his friend. He hadn't heard from Trajan in days, so Derek rode his bike over to the De Luca residence to see what was going on with his supposed boyfriend.

The state of his relationship with Trajan wasn't going to dampen his joy. The entire way there, Derek relished his newfound freedom. At 11 and a half, he'd been granted the privilege to ride his bike to friends' houses outside of his neighborhood. Riding across East Harbor to Trajan's was his first exercise of his independence.

Trajan was surprised to see Derek. The little blonde had never shown up out of the blue. "Hey," he greeted. The older boy turned and headed back to his bedroom and Derek followed.

When the bedroom door shut, Derek asked, "So, what have you been up to?"

Trajan plopped down on his bed and rolled to face the wall. "Nothing."

Derek wasn't completely in the dark about what happened at the sleep over. While he and Alejandro were introducing Curtis to the joys of having gay friends, Trajan had a spat with Scott Schultz. That, however, was the limit to Derek's knowledge. No one was talking about the reason behind the spat. Derek had always thought Scott and Trajan were close friends, especially after the incident in the handicap stall at the Valentine's Dance.

The little tween remained standing just inside the door. "What's going on with you?" His tone was more direct and accusatory than he meant. "You haven't even replied to one of my texts. Are you mad at me or something?"

"No." Trajan didn't move.

"Then what's with you? You're acting like you don't even want me here."

"Then leave."

"What?" Derek couldn't believe Trajan's attitude. Trajan is the one not returning calls or texts and he was the one reaching out and trying to be nice. He figured Trajan was hurt by what happened with Scott and he wanted to help. "You're upset about something and I'm trying to be nice. We're supposed to be boyfriends and that's what boyfriends do."

"Whatever."

Derek's cheeks turned red with anger. "You know, right now I'm being nicer to you than you ever are to me. You boss me around and get all the sex you want. But you don't even talk to me. Not really. When was the last time you asked me about swimming? Or came to one of my meets? Huh?"

"Fuck off."

Derek froze. He couldn't believe what he heard come out of Trajan's mouth.

"Why are you being mean to me?" asked Derek.

Trajan rolled over and faced Derek. Ever since he got home Sunday morning, he'd been in a foul mood. His emotions swung from being hurt by Scott and Lukas to anger at his supposed friends. Other times he was depressed. The last thing he wanted was someone trying to be nice to him when he was busy feeling sorry for himself.

"Derek, just go home. I'll call you later."

"Don't bother." Derek slammed Trajan's door then showed himself out. He snapped his helmet in place and rode off as fast as he could.

He headed home. Anger fueling his body. Derek pedaled at top speed for blocks he noticed he wasn't heading to his house. He dropped his bike on the lawn of a quaint, light blue craftsman bungalow a few blocks away from his home. Tossing his helmet to the ground beside the bike, Derek climbed the steps to the front porch and knocked on the door.

"Hi Derek, what are you doing here?"

Tears welled in the little blonde's eyes. "Can... can... can I come in?"

A boy with shaggy, brown hair stepped out onto the porch and took Derek into his arms. "Yeah, we can go to my room."

----------------------     

Keith tapped his headset activating the mic. "Stone, that lighting sequence fucking kills. But on camera, the footlights are bleeding out the rear spots. Can we cut them back a bit?"

"Yeah, give me a second." He tapped the trackpad a few times then watched the footlights as he dragged the intensity setting down. "How's this?"

The lights on stage reset and ran through their last sequence of effects for the end of "Betrayal", one of Simon and Lukas' original songs. They ran through the final lighting sequence again. Checking the camera display, Keith saw the red and orange splashing across the back wall was coming through while the boys were bright enough to stand out on stage. "Perfect."

Asa checked his watch. He stepped out onto the stage and waved to Keith who was manning the camera at the rear of the auditorium. Using his stage voice, Asa asked, "Lunch?"

"Yep!" shouted Keith.

Stone and Jess came down from the projector room. The theater's new projection system was so much smaller than the original system installed when the Majestic was built, the projector room now offered plenty of room to also house state-of-the-art digital systems for lights and sound.

Itsuki finished typing up his thoughts in OneNote and closed his laptop. Slipping his rose-colored MacBook Air into his purse, he joined his friends and the extra cameramen they brought with them to help with the concert.

"You guys are set up for lunch at the Café. They'll charge it to us," explained Michael. The band wasn't paying the co-eds for their work on the concert's production, but the boys felt a ton of gratitude for their hard work. The boys had the music down and had upped their game on showmanship. The show, however, would now include a professional light show and video projections, making their concert look like it's $50 a ticket event, not the $15 event is was slated to be. Feeding the college students was the least the band could do for their support.

"Thanks, Michael," said Keith. The other students also showed their appreciation.

"You guys coming with us?" asked Asa.

"Yep," said Simon, the last to join after shutting down his bass and amps.

Everyone walked over to the Maple Street Café and enjoyed a nice, laid back lunch before getting to work. After burgers, or whatever the students chose to eat, they headed back to the Majestic for another few hours of practice. The band ran through sections of the concert while Keith, Asa, and friends tweaked camera angles, sound levels, and lighting for Friday night's performance.

It was getting close to 4:00 and Zach needed to call it a day so he could get some studying in. The plan was for the boys to finish up some recording for the movie, then have the night off to rest up for the big event. Well, that was the plan that Zach knew about. But before they prepared for recording, the boys ensured Zach was gone and went into action.

Matthew stepped up to a mic so he wouldn't have to shout. "Do you guys have the flash drive that Michael gave you?"

"Yep," came a voice from the projection room into the band's in-ear monitors.

"Cool. So, during the encore, we're going to bring Zach up front and thank him for all he's done for us. But we're going to surprise him."

Matthew explained that they were to project the video from the flash drive onto the back wall of the stage before the band kicked into a song. Stone had been given a heads up and planned out some lighting for the song. The boys ran through the song a few times to get everything set up before switching over to the planned video recording.

----------------------     

"Boys, it's time to come in. Dinner's ready," called Maria, a beautiful, Hispanic lady in her mid-thirties.

Sam and Gregory were out in the back yard playing catch. Once they stored their lacrosse equipment in the mudroom and took off their shoes, they entered the kitchen filled with the smell of baking bread. "Yum! The bread smells great. What's for dinner, mom?" asked Gregory, wrapping his arms around him mom from behind.

Maria set the spoon down and returned Gregory's hug then stepped over to give Sam a hug too. Sam had always been like a second son to them.

As Maria hugged Sam, Gregory peeked in the pot. "Paella!"

"Would you boys set the table?"

Like a well-oiled machine, Sam and Gregory went to work. Because the boys had been friends forever, Sam knew his way around the Fielder kitchen and how Mrs. Fielder preferred the table to be set.

Just as dinner was ready to serve, Charles Fielder, better known to his friends and colleagues as Chaz, came home. Hanging his courier bag on a hook and slipping off his shoes, Gregory's father joined his family at the dinner table.

"Sam! Great to see you! You spending the night tonight?" He gave the seated boy a hug from behind then gave his own son a similar hug. "Hey, buddy!" Gregory received a kiss on the crown of his head.

"Yes, sir," replied Sam with a huge grin on his face. Sam loved Gregory's parents. Though he loved his mom and dad, they were so much older than the Fielders. If he ever had the opportunity to choose a second set of parents, he'd want them to be just like Gregory's.

"Hey, dad." Gregory smiled brightly with his father's attention. He felt he had the best parents in the world.

They enjoyed a wonderful dinner, a game of "Root: A Game of Woodland Might and Right", then everyone retired to their bedrooms for the rest of the evening. Bathroom tasks completed, Sam and Gregory returned to the bedroom.

It was the first overnight Sam was allowed since he came out and he was excited to finally have his mother's trust again. It helped that he convinced her Gregory was straight and they were not going to be boyfriends. It seemed like every other overnight the two had enjoyed over the years. However, now that it was time for bed Sam was nervous.

Though the boys had settled things over the last time Sam spent the night at Gregory's house, still Sam was uncertain of the details of their redefined friendship. He'd crossed the line last time by encouraging sex play that Gregory really didn't want. Since then, at the Spring Break Bash, Gregory had fucked Sam. The scene from the hot tub with Gregory and Alejandro had fueled Sam's jack-off fantasies ever since. Now, standing next to the bed they'd shared on sleepovers since they were old enough to have sleep overs, Sam wasn't sure if sleeping in the same bed was part of the new plan.

"Umm... are we, like, still gonna sleep in the same bed?"

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" asked Gregory as he stripped down to his neon green boxer briefs with black horizontal pinstripes. The briefs were snug and held everything in place leaving little to Sam's imagination.

Sam's black boxer briefs weren't as form fitting as Gregory's, but the extra room would never camouflage his erection. He waited until Gregory turned to plug in his phone to charge before dropping his shorts and slipping under the covers. Sam feared Gregory seeing him boned up already might make the Hispanic boy worried he was going to be molested in his sleep again.

Out of habit, when the lights went out, the boys turned to face each other so they could quietly talk until they fell to sleep.

"It sucks that spring break is almost over," bemoaned Gregory.

"Dude, it's Wednesday. We have four more days," offered Sam in his ever-optimistic attitude. He'd been even more so since coming out.

"Nah. We only have two more days," corrected Gregory. "Then we have the weekend before school starts."

"Well, yeah, but we still have four more days before school and less than two months before summer break!"

"Yeah," was all Gregory said. There was silence while the boys decided what to say next. Sam could tell there was something on Gregory's mind. It usually meant Gregory had something important to ask or say but didn't know how to say it. While Gregory contemplated, Sam tried to figure out what Gregory was thinking.

Once Sam had a pretty good idea of what was on Gregory's mind, he worked out how to bring up the topic.

"Did you like what happened in the hot tub at the party Saturday?" asked Sam, careful not to sound too eager and scare Gregory off.

No one could see in the dark, but Gregory blushed when Sam spoke what he was thinking. Sam felt the bed sway when Gregory nodded his head and whispered, "Yeah."

Sam let the idea hang for a moment before he asked, "You wanna do it again?"

Gregory didn't answer right away. Sam thought he'd pushed too far before Gregory nodded again. "Yeah."

Sam slipped from the bed and hurried to his backpack. Blind in the darkness, he slid his hand over the pack to orient himself then unzipped a small side compartment and pulled out a bottle Michael had given him. He crawled back in bed slipping the bottle in the space between their pillows.

"What did you do?" asked Gregory.

"I grabbed some lube in case you want to do it again tonight."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, what?" asked Sam.

Gregory paused before he confessed, "Yeah, I want to do it again."

When Gregory realized the movement in the bed was Sam shucking his underwear, Gregory scrambled to do the same. The commotion settled and the boys once again faced each other in the dark, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Gregory didn't want to seem gay and Sam didn't want to force himself on Gregory.

After what seemed like hours, but only a minute or so, Sam broke the silence. "You know I want to mess around, but I don't know what you do or don't want to do. You make the first move."

When Gregory didn't immediately do something, Sam's heart sank. He'd pushed things too far too fast and ruined the moment. Just as Sam was ready to roll over to go to sleep, Gregory scooted forward. Pressing his erection against Sam's pelvis, he felt Sam's paint a trail of precum against his own body. Another adjustment and the boys' chests pressed together.

The tension in Sam's body melted away as he relaxed his body into Gregory's. Feeling Sam surrender, Gregory rolled himself on top of Sam, coming to rest between his friend's legs.

Sam sighed and wrapped his arms around Gregory's neck. The firm, muscular body pressed against his own was heaven. Feeling Gregory's cock smashed against his own was the most erotic thing imaginable. Sam focused on etching every sensation into memory. Gregory's breath on his neck. The brush of Gregory's lips across his cheek. The taste of Gregory's mouthwash as their tongues danced together.

----------------------     

For the last month, Stone and Jess were at Asa and Keith's apartment more than they were at their own places. Tonight, after filming in East Harbor and preparing for Friday's show, they all returned to San Diego to edit footage. To share, discuss, and make decisions on sound and edits, it was easier to be in the same room than trying to collaborate virtually, or asynchronously. Furthermore, it saved a ton of time -- something they were short on when it came to completing their overly ambitious project by the department's deadline.

Keith yawned and stretched as Adobe Media Encoder churned out the MP4 file of the music video he'd just finished editing. He considered waking everyone up to see the video but decided it could wait until morning. But before he went to bed, he decided to watch it one more time to be certain the final product was ready for release. Keith clicked play in Premier and the master video file played. He checked it against the director's notes one last time.

----------------------     

THURSDAY, APRIL 5, 2018

Maria Fielder called to Sam and Gregory again. Chaz had already left for the office. As the principle and owner of The Fielder Agency, a small, but growing marketing agency, Chaz liked to get to the office early. That's when he felt he was most creative. Maria, a copy editor and project manager for the agency, was able to flex her schedule around Gregory's and even work from home if need be. Now that their son was old enough to stay home by himself, she still liked to see him before she left for work.

It was unlike the boys to not respond when she called them. She couldn't delay getting to the office any longer. She had a team meeting before they met with a picky client later this morning. Maria headed to Gregory's room at the end of the hallway. She stopped herself just before her knuckles struck the door. Being young teen boys, they needed lots of sleep. She decided not to wake them, but to simply check on them. Quietly twisting the doorknob to her son's room, she pushed the door open.

The soft morning light bathed the room. She stuck her head in to peer around the door to Gregory's bed. That's when the smell of sex hit her. The sight on Gregory's bed made it clear exactly why the room smelled of ass, lube, cum, and sweaty teenage boy.

Gregory was sleeping on his back. His right knee bent and fallen to the side. Her son's left arm was draped across the back of an equally naked Sam, whose head rested on Gregory's hip. One of Sam's arms was lodged behind her son's back while the other snaked over Gregory's left leg and under his right. Perhaps the most obvious evidence of the previous night's activities were the bottle of KY resting on the corner of the bed, and a trail of what she correctly assumed was her son's emissions trailing down Sam's inner thigh, and her son's morning wood nestled against Sam's face.

Maria quietly closed the door and smiled to herself. She was pleased she'd turned on the white noise machine last night because it looked like her boy had a wild night.

Once at the office, Maria waited for an opportunity to speak to Chaz alone. After various project stand-up meetings and Chaz' calls and sales meeting, they were able to connect for a quick chat.

"Hey," greeted Maria.

"What's so exciting that you're practically knocking down my door to tell me?" asked Chaz.

"No emergency, but I think you need to have another talk with our son."

"Me? I thought we already had that talk with him -- twice. Didn't we have the sex talk with him last year and another talk with him when Sam came out?"

"Yes," said Maria, "and I think our son defined himself as a 'boob man' if I recall."

Chaz laughed. Gregory had supported his self-identification as being straight by claiming to be a boob man and naming the girls he was interested in at school. "So why are you bringing this up again? And why are you saying I should talk to him instead of we?"

Maria smiled and gave Chaz a knowing look. "Because I think our son takes after his father more than we realized."

----------------------     

It was a glorious morning in East Harbor as far as Lewis was concerned. No matter that it was cloudy and the temperature was only in the sixties, for Lewis spring break had finally begun. As any fair-skinned redhead would do, even on a cloudy day, he applied a healthy coating of sun screen before stowing the bottle in his backpack and hopping on his bike.

With only Thursday and Friday to enjoy staying home sans father, he wanted to get an early start to his day. The bike ride to Courtney's gave him time to reflect and plan.

Lewis needed to prepare for Courtney's questions. Before school was out, she'd been up his ass wondering what he was doing and why he wasn't going to be around the first few days of break. She knew he wasn't going to visit family or take a vacation, they'd already planned to spend much of their free time together. Then suddenly Lewis' plans changed, and he was going to be gone Sunday through Wednesday leaving Courtney to figure out what to do without Lewis. No matter how much she begged and complained, Lewis stood fast and didn't reveal his plans. He couldn't. He knew Courtney's legendary inability keep a secret. Speaking to Courtney was the equivalent of using the school's intercom system. But this news, if it were to be news, Lewis wasn't even ready to tell anyone, not even Christian.

You see, Lewis' performances on the lacrosse field were drawing attention from some of the private schools in the area. They benefited from the luxury of offering scholarships to draw athletes away from public schools and Lewis' goaltending made him a prime target. Several schools had sent scouts to East Harbor Middle School games and wondered how they could entice the eighth-grade goalie away from Coach Lange's program. However, once the Army and Navy Academy learned that Lewis Fuerst was the son of a Rear Admiral George Fuerst, they couldn't get Lewis' recruitment letter in the mail fast enough.

The Academy was just fifteen minutes away, situated right on the beach in Carlsbad. Though it was a seventh through twelfth grade military boarding school, about ten percent of its students commuted, offering Lewis the choice of living at home or on campus. Graduates of the Academy typically enter one of the military academies or pursue a traditional four-year degree. However, the Academy's academic program was successfully placing students in the best colleges and universities in the country, including Ivy League schools. This excited Lewis because any given year, Army, Navy, or Air Force were ranked nationally in lacrosse. Thus, if he didn't get a scholarship to one of the schools of his choice, he'd be a shoe in to one of the military academies and their lacrosse program.

To entice Lewis to transfer to the Academy, they offered him a special on a campus visit. He arrived on campus Saturday evening, after the Spring Break Bash and his father picked him up Wednesday evening, after dinner. Sunday, he spent time hanging out on the beach and making friends with some of the boys in the lacrosse program. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday he attended classes and practiced with the eighth-grade and JV lacrosse teams. At dinner on Wednesday evening he and his new friends were joined by the head lacrosse coach and the school's athletic director.

Turning right onto Courtney's street, it occurred to him that he could tell her the truth, but just not all the details. Leaning his bike against the mimosa tree in his girlfriend's front yard, Lewis bounded up the steps and knocked on the door.

Courtney was ready to go but didn't plan on making things easy for Lewis. The longer it took for him to show up, the more time she had to work herself up about not knowing where he'd been since he chose to go to the party at the Meijer boys' house instead of spending Saturday with her.

"Hi Courtney!" greeted Lewis with a big smile. He was really happy to see her. However, an older Lewis would have been more in tune to the situation and would have used a better line to sweet talk his way out of his situation. A "hey gorgeous" or "hi sweetness" would have started to thaw out the icy atmosphere.

"Where in the hell have you been?" It came out a lot bitchier than Courtney intended, but she was worked up and couldn't help herself.

Lewis knew this was his one shot and he had to deliver the line perfectly to survive the day. He slumped his shoulders turned his smile into a frown. "Dad sent me to visit to a military boarding school."

If this had been an international soccer match, the announcer would be screaming "scooooooooooooooore" at the top of his lungs.

Courtney's attitude flipped. She was horrified at the prospect of Lewis being sent away to a boarding school, especially a military school. She lunged at Lewis and threw her arms around his waist.

"But... but... but why? Why would he send you to a boarding school?"

"I don't know. I think he's worried we are getting too serious." He wasn't sure where that came from, but it landed perfectly. Courtney pulled back and looked Lewis in the eyes. He knew he'd said enough. Instead of trying to explain further and dig himself into a hole, he simply leaned in and kissed her. She relaxed and accepted his tongue into her mouth. He pulled her tightly to his body, pressing his man-sized erection against her stomach.

When they broke the kiss, the two teens were breathless. Lewis wanted to take things up to Courtney's bedroom, but she knew better. "We'd better get going, my mom will be back from the store any minute."

Lewis waited by his bike while Courtney locked up the house, grabbed her own backpack, and retrieved her bike and helmet from the garage. Ready, they headed to Emily's house to meet up with the other couple.

----------------------     

Christian bounced the ball to her right. Emily snagged it, spun, and flicked it back to Christian. "Nice snag!" he called out. They were working on Emily's range for catching. The couple spent many hours together since the start of the lacrosse season working on skills. For both, their extra work was recognized by their coaches and improved their game-time performance.

Catching Emily's return pass, Christian called out, "I still can't believe your mom let us hang out during the day by ourselves."

"You said that yesterday at your house," laughed Emily with her return pass.

"Well, it's true. I couldn't believe your mom let you come to my house for the day yesterday."

Emily laughed to herself. She and her mother had a long talk about Christian, and boys in general. It was honest and frank and any and all topics were on the table. The biggest lesson Emily learned was adolescent boys are a lot less self-aware than girls. After their talk, the mothers talked and agreed to allow these all-day visits between their children.

"Well," Emily explained, "my mom trusts you."

It was Christian's turn to laugh. "Since when does the mother of a middle school girl trust a middle school boy?"

"You give her plenty of reasons to be trusted," said Emily with a smile. "Let's go in now. I think Lewis and Courtney will be here soon."

"Okay."

Christian set his stick next to his bike parked on the patio. Emily carried her stick and ball into the house. Grabbing water from the fridge, they headed up to Emily's room.

"So... what do you want to do now?" asked Christian, plopping down in Emily's desk chair. To Christian, sitting on Emily's bed wasn't even a consideration. It just seemed too invasive.

Emily hung her stick on the wall and dropped the ball into a basket on her bookshelf before turning on some music. "Tonight" by LCD Soundsystem played.

Christian hid his face behind his hands. "Oh no!"

"Yep," confirmed Emily as she danced over to Christian. "I told you that we are going to dance at the next school dance. Now get up and dance with me." She grabbed his hand and pulled rolling Christian and her desk chair across the room. Laughing, she swung him around in a circle and released him, the chair rolled and crashed softly into the desk.

Christian got up and joined Emily, slowly loosening up and moving to the music. The playlist transitioned to "Feel it Still" by Portugal. The Man. This was a song Christian knew better. He got into the dancing, even if Emily could see him. What Christian would never admit to is he liked to dance. It was something he could do alone in his room, losing himself in the music, or in his own head. This song happened to be one of his favorites.

"See," said Emily with a grin, "I knew you could dance." Christian just smiled and loosened up a bit more. Emily was the one friend Christian felt he could truly be himself with. Any vestiges of fear of letting Emily into his world evaporated when LMAFO's "Party Rock Anthem" came up next.

"Oh my gawd! I love this song!" Emily had never seen Christian so excited when he wasn't in the middle of a lacrosse game. But this was the song that inspired Christian to start dancing, or should I say shuffling. He loved the footwork and kicking it up to the faster dance beat. He'd watched the official video and learned the lyrics and steps.

Emily figured Christian could dance, she'd seen his moves on the lacrosse field and she'd given up ever playing him in tennis again, but this display surprised her.

Christian danced and sang without a care in the world. Then the music stopped, and Christian sang along, "Every day I'm shuffling." Matching the steps in the video, Christian broke out into all-out dance mode. These were his favorite moves and he nailed the choreography from the video. Emily laughed and cheered.

He acted out the lyrics "Step up fast and be the first girl to make me throw this cash; We get money, don't be mad, now stop - hatin' is bad."

"RAH!" came two screaming voices as Lewis and Courtney jumped through Emily's bedroom door.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" screamed Christian jumping across the room and falling over the corner of Emily's bed. Emily jumped back and squealed.

It was minutes before Courtney and Lewis could pick themselves up off the floor and catch their breath. Neither had laughed so hard in a long time. When they recovered, both managed to make it to Emily's bed and flop down on their backs.

"Did you see..." sputtered Lewis.

"And Emily..." laughed Courtney.

Christian and Emily took the kidding in stride. As a couple, they were notorious for playing small pranks on their friends, so it was only fitting someone returned the favor. Christian took the desk chair and Emily sat on the storage bench at the end of her bed.

"So," Emily asked, "how long were you guys in the hallway."

"Long enough to learn that Christian has some fancy footwork," answered Courtney.

"Shit, dude." Lewis raised to his elbows so he could look at his best friend. "When did you learn to dance like that?"

"I don't know. I guess since I didn't have any friends back home, I had plenty of time to do whatever I wanted." Christian didn't care that Courtney saw him dancing, he was embarrassed being caught by Lewis.

In many ways, Lewis was still his first and best friend. But since their reunion, Christian also came to realize how much Lewis dominated their friendship. Most of the time it didn't bother Christian. He was laid back and just enjoyed hanging out with Lewis and doing whatever crazy thing Lewis wanted to do (when he wasn't talking about girls). But Christian's interests didn't always align with Lewis'. Sometimes he liked to watch a documentary, have a serious conversation about the world and what he wanted to do in the future, or do things he enjoyed like dancing and playing tennis. However, Christian was apprehensive of Lewis' reaction to the things he wanted to do. Instead of allowing Lewis to turn him down or tease him about wanting to do things that weren't Lewis' interests, Christian just kept his mouth shut and went along with Lewis. From his work with Michael in the recovery book, Christian was aware of emotional intelligence, something he doubted Lewis, like most boys their age, possessed.

"So, we have the house to ourselves?" asked Lewis. The question was rhetorical. They'd all discussed the fact the night before on a Zoom call Christian set up. When Lewis rolled over and pulled Courtney to his body, his intentions were clear.

"Not in this house," stated Emily, putting her proverbial foot down about what was, or was not, going to happen. "I promised my mom. I'm not going to give her any reason to not trust me or ban me from having friends over when she and dad aren't home."

Lewis made a strangled sound voicing his displeasure. He rolled off Courtney, but not before letting his hand drag across her one of her boobs. Courtney rolled towards Emily and propped herself up on one elbow.

"Com'on, Em," pleaded Courtney. "You know my mom's home from work today."

Emily hated it when Courtney called her "Em". She'd told her as much. It was just another example of how Courtney played friends with people when she wanted something, but otherwise ignored them. The two girls would never be friends. They only played nice because their boyfriends were besties.

"First," stated Emily, pissed that Courtney would push the issue, "our security system tracks enough of the activity in the house my mom would know someone was in a room they shouldn't be in. Second, we do have some cameras inside the house. And third, because I said, 'no'."

Christian saw the fury behinds Emily's eyes and jumped in. "Besides, it's getting time we head out anyway."

Before Lewis and Courtney's minds when to what could be, the foursome had made plans to ride their bikes to the have lunch and catch a matinee movie. Christian plotted a course taking residential and back roads the two and a half miles to the Regal Edwards San Marcos cineplex. With 18 screens, the quartet felt they could find something they'd all enjoy.

There were a number of restaurants on the way and they'd decided to wait until today to decide where to eat. Christian asked, "So, where are we stopping for some grub?"

The others answered at once.

"Taco Bell!" gushed Lewis.

"McDonald's," stated Courtney.

"Sonic," voted Emily.

"Sonic it is," announced Christian.

"What? How? It was a tie," argued Lewis.

"Emily voted for me by proxy so Sonic had two votes," explained Christian.

"By what?" asked Lewis.

Courtney explained, "He's going along with whatever his girlfriend says like you're supposed to do."

"Oh," said Lewis, understanding what Courtney meant.

The friends snagged a picnic table and enjoyed their food and milkshakes. The birds also enjoyed all the French fries left over from the teens throwing food at each other.

The group arrived at the cineplex with plenty of time to decide which movie they would see.

"Damn," stated Courtney under her breath.

"What?" asked Christian.

"The lady selling tickets, she's the assistant manager. There's no way we're going to get tickets to an R rated movie," explained Courtney.

"Well that limits our choices," stated Emily. "Looks like we have to choose between 'Black Panther', 'A Wrinkle in Time', 'Ready Player One', 'Sherlock Gnomes', 'Tomb Raider', and 'Love, Simon'."

"Christian and I've seen 'Black Panther'," offered Lewis, checking one movie from the list.

"I don't want to see a stupid animated movie," griped Courtney, removing another movie from the list of possibilities.

After a few more minutes of mulling over their choices, Emily suggested they vote.

"Ready Player One," voted Christian, excited to see the latest Steven Spielberg movie.

Lewis voted for "Tomb Raider" hoping Alicia Vikander would be scantily clothed or in a wet wife-beater for much of the movie.

The girls, however, out voted the boys by choosing the romantic comedy, "Love, Simon". They didn't know anything about the movie, but it seemed like the best option. The boys were relegated to their proper position and approached the ticket counter to purchase the tickets.

Since most of their fries ended up as lunch for the local wildlife, the teens had plenty of room for popcorn, soda and candy. The couples stocked up on their selections and headed to the theater. Being spring break, there were a few more people in the cineplex than usual for a Thursday afternoon, but it was still rather empty. Lewis and Courtney headed to the back row of the theater with Christian and Emily following behind. They joined their friends in the last row, but sat several seats away knowing Lewis and Courtney would end up missing a good chunk of the movie. Living up to expectations, Lewis and Courtney were making out before the movie's opening credits ended.

----------------------     

It was 1:50 and Lars' session with his patient ended. He hoped the mother and teenage daughter he'd spent the last hour with didn't notice his anxiously waiting for their appointment to end. He was anticipating the arrival of his new patient.

He walked the ladies to the door then hurried to grab another cup of coffee and the boy's file to review one last time. Before he could even open it, there was a knock at the front door. He opened the door to find Alex Guerrero standing there alone. His mother waived from the driver's seat and drove off. Lars tried to motion her to stay, but she practically burned rubber thankful she didn't have to sit in on yet another of her son's therapy sessions.

Lars knew Alex saw him motion for his mother. In the awkward silence, Lars offered, "Well, I guess your mother was in a hurry to go somewhere."

"She's got a two o'clock job interview to be a waitress somewhere." Alex turned and walked into the house and Lars followed. Stopping at the panel to the security system, he turned on the cameras throughout the house so there would be video footage of Alex's visit. He preferred not to be left alone with young patients, especially ones as unpredictable as Alex was said to be.

The 13-year-old Hispanic boy walked across the living room and dropped onto the sofa. He wore newer clothes that were disheveled. His hair was recently cut, but poorly kept. He was an attractive boy who appeared to be a bit underweight and emotionally frail. Typically, Lars would direct his patient into the office, but he sensed he would get more out of Alex if he kept their first visit more informal.

Taking a seat in the armchair so he could observe Alex's body language, he asked, "So Alex, what do you want out of your time here in East Harbor?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" asked Alex. The boy was confused by the question and the doctor's hidden agenda behind the questions.

"Life can be broken down into different periods. Changing jobs or schools, moving to a different town, getting sober, these are all things that can be turning points -- the changing from one phase of your life to another. You've gotten out of rehab and moved to East Harbor. It's the start of a new period in your life. What do you want out of life here in East Harbor?"

Again, Alex was suspicious of the doctor's intentions. He tried to decipher the angle Dr. Meijer played but couldn't figure it out. "I dunno."

"Well, this is the perfect time to reinvent yourself. To be who you want to be instead of who you were?"

"What's the fuck wrong with who I was?" asked Alex.

"Did you like who you were back in Mayfield?"

"Yeah, I was fine. It's not my fault I was stuck in that shit hole with a bunch of faggots."

"And there's not a single person you're going to miss back in Mayfield?"

"No. Well... no." Alex's conviction faltered momentarily. There was someone he was going to miss back in Mayfield and he'd had hours and hours on the drive to Southern California to ruminate about how horribly he'd treated Grant on the day he left town.

Lars let Alex be with his thoughts for a bit before continuing. "You might not realize this Alex, but even at only 13, you make the decisions in your life. Very few things are imposed upon you."

"Yeah, right."

"It's true. You didn't have any say about moving to East Harbor, but you make a lot of decisions for yourself. You are the one that is in full control over whether or not you choose to do the things that got you into trouble and rehab back home."

"Bullshit."

"Really?" Lars knew Alex wouldn't be released from rehab without having heard this before. He needed to get Alex off kilter if he was to break through the boy's tough exterior.

"Yeah, really. What the fuck?"

"So why do you drink, Alex?"

"Because my mom's a fucking alcoholic and I fucking hate her!" yelled Alex.

"Why do you drink, Alex?"

"'Cause I fucking hate Mayfield and all the assholes that live there." Alex's voice grew louder and his rage grew stronger.

"Alex, why do you drink?"

Alex stood and faced this new doctor. He screamed at the top of his lungs, "Because my life sucks! I drank to escape my shitty life!"

Lars took off his glasses and looked Alex directly in his eyes. He could see the boy's pain as he looked deep into Alex's soul. Alex read the concern and compassion in the man's eyes. The piercing blue eyes of the doctor were unsettling. Alex felt the anger and misery well up inside and Dr. Mejier's look of concern threatened to puncture the dam holding back those emotions. The dam Alex spent so much effort to build. Alex's eyes welled up with tears and his body trembled.

"Why do you drink, Alex?"

Alex closed his eyes and his cheeks wetted with his tears. He choked out his response. "Because I hate myself." The dam burst and emotions poured forth from the young teen. "I'm such a piece of shit. My dad hates me. My mom hates me. And now, the only friend I ever had hates me. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Why do I make everybody hate me?"

Lars stood to hand Alex some tissues.

"No! Leave me alone!" He ran like a frightened cat zigging left and right, trying to determine the best escape route. Turning right, he found no exit. He entered Lars and Zach's bedroom. Spying the bathroom, he entered and slammed the door shut. Alex moved to the far corner then dropped to the floor and sobbed.

When Lars opened his home practice, he had replaced all the doorknobs throughout the house so none of the doors locked. After all the times a young Lukas had infringed on his privacy in the bathroom and he'd considered putting locks back on some of the doors, he was glad he hadn't. Lars sat on the floor outside the en suite. He listened for Alex's sobbing to calm before he spoke.

"Alex, you're more than welcome to stay in there. I don't mind at all. But I do ask that you open the door so I can see you when we talk." He listened carefully, trying to determine what Alex was doing. If he got any inkling that Alex was going to harm himself, he was going through the door.

----------------------     

William Calloway approached Janette and Carol out on the Mallway. He held up a piece of paper he found taped to the door of his office when he came back from lunch.

"What is this? This is too much." Bill shook his head in wonder.

"Bill, you've earned it. This promotion was long overdue. Besides, we are following the young master's guidance about paying our employees what they are worth. That raise was long overdue and your next paycheck will reflect that."

"Congratulations, Bill," greeted Carol, giving the Majestic Theater's new Lead Custodial Engineer a huge hug. Janette followed suite.

"Now I hate to cut this celebration short, but crews will be arriving shortly to start setting up," stated Janette, abruptly changing topics to what they'd all gathered on the Mallway to discuss.

"How many people are we expecting as an overflow crowd?" asked Bill.

"Well, according to everyone I've consulted," answered Janette, "we may have over a thousand people beyond those holding tickets for the show."

The buzz about the show from Alt94.9 KBZT, the SDSU film department, East Harbor students, news agencies still squeezing life out of Michael's story, and the online community discovering the boys' music, drove demand for tickets and the show sold out quickly. Initially, the balcony was reserved for students, family and friends of the boys while ticket holders would be on the main floor. When demand exceeded supply, Janette made the decision to move the free attendees to the Mallway and sell out the balcony. That increased ticket sales to the venue's capacity of nearly 4,000. Since they organized the outdoor event to watch the concert on a live feed, Janette enlisted Rick at KBZT and Christian to promote the free event. Though the outdoor show would be free, it generated other opportunities to generate revenue.

"We're bringing in a giant LED screen and sound system to display the show. That's going to be set up at the bottom of the high school steps facing the Mallway. Bill, can you head up organizing the team when they show up?"

"Yes. No problem."

"Even though we have the Café and Pappy's offering carry out service, they won't be able to handle all the additional business. That's why we're bringing in food trucks and concession vendors. We'll line them up along the driveway in front of the school on either side of the video screen. The port-a-pots will be set up at the end, past the concessions at each end."

"I've got that too," offered Bill.

"Thanks Bill." Janette was completely honest earlier. Working with Bill had been incredible. He was caring, meticulous, and anticipated the needs for events and the crews that come in to work on the theater or to support the events.

Bill asked, "Are we having a beer truck?"

"No, since we've moved all the students out here, I didn't think it was a good idea." Janette and Carol spent a great deal of time discussing the pros and cons.

"What else do have going on today?" he asked.

Carol provided her update. "We have the East Harbor PD coming out to discuss security. They may require us to fence all the event perimeter, man gates, and check IDs. We're okay with whatever they ask. I'm going to be with clients the rest of the afternoon and Janette will be in and out. We'd like you to own the security discussion. Here are phone numbers for businesses we've made arrangements with depending on what's required. This one's for fencing and the other will provide security at the gates. The police will have a presence in case something happens."

"Got it. We should block off the parking behind both buildings and limit it to appropriate traffic: Pappy's delivery drivers and music instructors and students for the Majestic studio on the west side, and the Café's employees and food delivery drivers on the east."

"Good ideas, Bill. Do what needs to happen and bring in any extra support you need." Janette had full confidence in Mr. Calloway and the ladies left him to take care of preparations.

----------------------     

Lars gave Alex all the time he needed to decide. Initial appointments with new clients were generally two hours and he insured Alex would be his last patient this day.

After five minutes or so, Lars wasn't keeping track, he heard Alex turn the door knob and slowly open the door. Then the teen retreated to the back corner of the bathroom, wedging himself in the corner between the walk-in shower and the far wall.

Alex was an emotional wreck, but momentarily, he was open to hearing what Lars had to say, even if he preferred not to hear it.

Lars lowered his voice and tried to sooth the boy's frazzled nerves. "If I were in your shoes, I would probably feel like there's no hope. Like there's no way to come back from such a dark place." Alex dropped his forehead to his knees and began to cry again.

"So, back in February, was that intentional?" He had the records from Alex's overdose. Though it was suspected by some to be a suicide attempt, no one knew for certain.

Alex simply nodded. It wrenched Lars' heart.

"Alex, there is hope."

Alex cried harder. He wanted to believe the doctor. He didn't want to go another day feeling this way.

"Can I come in?"

Alex nodded again. Lars crawled over so he was an arms-length away from Alex then sat with his back against the vanity.

"I've worked with boys that have had all sorts of horrible things happen to them. You know what they all had in common?"

The boy looked up but didn't answer. Lars continued, "They all found happiness on the other side."

"The other side?" asked Alex. "Like dead?"

"No, not that," correct Lars. "On the other side of the pain. I've helped a lot of boys push through the pain and put their lives back together. You are no different. I can help you."

"No, you can't. You don't understand. I'm the reason for all of this. I'm just a piece of shit and if I went away, everything would be better for everyone."

"Think about this. What makes you think you are a bad person?"

"My dad used to be mad all the time. He'd beat me and yell and scream. And sometimes he'd lock me in the basement. He even removed the light bulbs so I couldn't turn on the lights."

"Were you scared?"

"Yes, I was fucking scared. That's why he did it."

"What else makes you think you are a bad person?"

"My mom calls me a piece of shit. How could a mom and dad hate their kid? No parents hate their kid. It must be me. I made them hate me. I'm bad. I make people hate me."

Lars scooted forward and placed his hand on Alex's. "That's what it seems like because adults are supposed to be trusted. But sometimes adults make mistakes just like kids do. Here's an example. What was your friend's name? The one you mentioned earlier."

"Grant. Grant Foster."

"How long were you friends?"

"Since we were little dudes, like before elementary school."

"What happened the last time you saw Grant?"

"Well, we used to drink and do shit together but now he hangs out with the goody-goody kids who go to Fourth Dimension. He won't do none of that stuff anymore."

"When did you see him last?" asked Lars, moving Alex back on track.

"The day we left Mayfield. We were packing the truck and Grant came over to say goodbye."

"And what did you say to him?"

"I called him a faggot, an asshole, and told him he had shit for brains."

"And you feel bad about calling him those things, right?"

Alex nodded. Grant had tried to be nice for so long, but he rejected his only real friend. Nobody else, not even Duncan or Vance had bothered to see him in the hospital or after he returned home from rehab.

"Does that make it true? Did calling him an asshole and shit for brains make it true?"

"No, I was just feeling like shit, so I took it out on him. He didn't deserve it."

"I see." Lars let that realization set in before pushing on to his next point.

"So, as you've seen with your own parents, some adults have trouble keeping their shit together." He didn't normally cuss around his young patients, but sometimes it seemed like the right thing to do.

"Yeah."

"And like you, adults that have trouble keeping their shit together, that are alcoholics, or just feel bad about themselves, they take it out on others -- especially their kids."

"You got that right." Alex felt Lars was preaching to the choir.

"When they do that, they say a lot of mean things, just like kids do. Like you did with Grant. You didn't mean them, but you say them to make the other person as unhappy as you are."

Alex nodded. He knew he did that a lot and he could see his mom and her boyfriends doing the same thing.

"And like you said, those things are said to be mean, not because they are true."

"Yeah," agreed Alex.

"So, when you mom and dad said those things to you, it wasn't because it was true, it was because they were unhappy and wanted to make you feel bad too."

Alex nodded as he put the pieces together in his head.

"Now, what happens at times is we are told something so many times we start to believe it. That's especially true when an adult says it to a child."

"But what about what I did? All my drinking and drugging, being mean to people who were nice to me. Letting dudes fuck me for..." Alex stopped abruptly. He hadn't meant to reveal that part.

"Alex, it's cause and effect."

"What?"

"You did the shitty things because you felt bad about yourself. But after a while, you forgot where it all started and believed you were a bad person because you did the shitty things. Then it just becomes a cycle. You feel bad, you do something to either not feel bad, or to make someone else feel as bad as you do, then you use that as evidence of being a bad person and it makes you feel worse."

"You're making my head hurt."

Lars laughed. "Let's move this conversation to the kitchen. You want something to drink?"

Alex nodded. They stood and headed to the kitchen.

----------------------     

"Are you guys 'At the Majestic'?" asked Joey, the stage manager for the Santa Monica Pier Twilight Concert Series, a free weekly Thursday night concert drawing thousands of people who enjoy the beach and great music.

Zach leaned out the window of the Transit. "Yes, we have three vehicles. Do we have reserved parking for all three?"

"Yeah. You'll see it on this side of the stage. We're planning on holding your soundcheck in one hour."

"Perfect, thanks," answered Zach, rolling up his window. He led the small convoy to the stage. The boys just wrapped up the last of their video shoots earlier in the day. The only remaining footage planned was tonight's performance and tomorrow night's concert. Being a tight schedule since two other acts had to set up and have their time on the stage before the show, the boys were all business once the vehicles parked.

They set up, practiced with the lighting team, performed their soundcheck, then got out of the way so the "real" bands could take the stage.

Asa and Keith worked with their buddy Paul to determine how they wanted to film. Keith and Asa scoped out different angles from in front of the stage on the pier while Paul took some practice footage of the boys from his drone.

"Thanks guys," Keith said to the boys. "Go enjoy yourselves and let's meet back here in an hour and a half to have dinner then prepare for the show. Itsuki should be here for makeup by then."

"Cool!" said Lukas. The four boys took off down the pier to enjoy the sights and what seemed like the first hour of free time they'd had all week.

----------------------     

"We've got soda and three or four different kinds of Gatorade. It looks like we have some iced tea and bottled water. Orange juice. What would you like?" asked Lars.

"That's a lot of stuff. Do you have kids?" asked Alex.

"Yep. I've got four boys ranging from 11 to 16."

"A Coke works."

Lars handed Alex a Coke then retrieved his cold coffee. He poured the cold coffee back into the pot then poured a fresh cup.

"Where are they?" Alex knew he arrived during spring break so they couldn't be at school.

"They are working on a project that took them up to the Los Angeles area today. They'll be back later this evening. Could you grab the oatmeal out of that cupboard?" Lars pointed to the tall door at the end of the countertop.

Without thinking, Alex turned around and opened the door. He saw a huge container of Quaker Oats and grabbed it for Lars. Phase two of Lars' plan was in motion. Boys are more receptive to counseling when they are actively doing something else - fishing, playing basketball, videos games. As long as the therapy is in addition to something else, they don't feel like they are being put on the spot. Lars could have taken Alex outside to throw a football, kick a soccer ball, or even find two gloves and toss a baseball. But today, he wanted Alex to have something to take home to show he accomplished something.

Lars was busy grabbing items and eliciting Alex's help. The teen set a bottle of vanilla and a jar of cinnamon next to the other ingredient and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Well, I'm hungry and I thought some cookies sounded good. So, I thought we could bake some oatmeal raisin cookies." Lars moved the large mixer to the island next the ingredients and plugged it in. "Does that sound like fun?"

"Uh... not really."

"Well, if you help me out, I'll send some of the cookies home with you."

Alex rolled his eyes. Baking cookies or doing anything in the kitchen beyond using the microwave, sounded stupid. But, Alex reasoned, it was better than sitting through more therapy.

"Have you ever used a measuring cup or measuring spoons?"

"No."

"Well we're going to make a double batch, so we need six cups of oats." He set the measuring cup on the counter next to the oats.

While Lars helped Alex make cookies, he told the story of a boy and the work the boy did to take back his life and recover. Leaving out certain details and with the boy's permission, Lars related to Alex, Michael's story.

"I'll grab the hot cookies from the oven, then you slide the two sheets of unbaked cookies in and shut the door quick, so we don't lose too much heat."

Lars removed the baked cookies and Alex slid the next batch into the oven and quickly shut the door. Task accomplished, Alex and Lars exchanged a high-five.

"So," began Alex, still leery of Lars and therapists in general, "did you make up that story?"

"Nope. I can't tell you more about the story or who the boy is because it is confidential. But I can guarantee you that by the end of the month, you will know this boy, but you won't know he is the boy with the abuse history." He didn't mention that if he asked around, he'd be bound to find a student that would point Michael out as the boy from the story. Lars didn't want it to be that easy for Alex. He wanted Alex to be curious. To watch and observe the different boys at school to see if he could figure out which boy Lars told him about. He was also thankful Michael had given him permission to use his story if needed.

"That's really fucked up." Alex was happy Dr. Meijer hadn't gotten on him about his language and decided to take full advantage of it.

"Yeah," laughed Lars, "I think that is the best way to describe it. Recovering from something like that takes a long time. It's sort of like an addiction. You have to work on it all the time. Sometimes you can make it through the day without having to think about it too much. Other days you have to be very purposeful and practice all you've been taught just to make it to the next day. It's a life-long battle. But you've already heard that, right?"

"Yeah. That's why I'm supposed to go to AA meetings all the time."

"Well, AA is part of it. But it is what you learn at AA that you put into practice on a daily basis. Just going to the meetings isn't enough. Do you like milk with your cookies?"

"Yep."

Lars poured two glasses of milk and set one in front of Alex. "You ready to try your masterpiece?"

"Huh?"

"Alex, you made the cookies. They look delicious. Let's try them."

They each picked up a warm oatmeal raisin cookie. The little extra vanilla and cinnamon set Lars' recipe apart. Alex examined the cookie as if he expected something to be wrong with the cookie since he measured the ingredients, mixed them, scooped the batter, and placed it on the cookie sheets. The cookies were golden brown and the bottoms perfectly baked.

The boy looked to the doctor who was enjoying his cookie before daring to take a bite of his own. "Mmmmm..." was all he could say as he chewed his cookie. He munched the rest of the cookie and helped himself to a second while he thought about Dr. Meijer and his therapy session. The smile on the doctor's face made Alex feel as though the man genuinely cared about him and had been honest. Not that Alex was ready to trust him but coming back for another session might not be terrible. Especially if their sessions would taste this good. He chased the second cookie with his glass of milk.

"I'm really proud of you, Alex. You did a great job with the cookies. Especially for your first time ever baking." Alex almost... almost... allowed himself to feel pride in something he'd done. He watched Lars fill a plastic container with cookies to send home with Alex. "Don't forget these," reminded Lars, handing the cookies to the boy. "Let's relax in the living room until your ride comes."

"There's one more thing I want you to think about before our next session. Though we are born into a family unit, you will come to understand as you get older that your true 'family' is the people you choose to hold close and share your life with."

Alex furrowed his brow. "Says the man with the huge family. Does your wife agree with that?"

"Actually Alex, my family is the perfect example of what I'm saying." Lars walked into his office to retrieve a framed five by seven sitting on the console behind his desk. "Here."

Just as Alex expected, it was a portrait of the perfect family. All seven were bunched together, smiling like it was the greatest day of their lives. It made Alex want to puke. "Whatever," he said, handing the photo back to Lars.

"Not so fast." Lars guided the photo back in front of Alex. "What do you see?"

Alex was getting upset again. "I see you and your perfect fucking family. That's what I see. You have a beautiful wife and all your boys are ho... I mean, good looking. They probably all get good grades and never get into trouble. Why in the fuck are you rubbing my nose in this shit? You're supposed to be helping me!"

"Don't be so quick to judge, Alex. You've heard the saying, 'you can't judge a book by its cover', right? Well, what you think you see isn't what it is."

"What? You gonna tell me those boys are really a girls?"

"No," Lars chuckled, "they are all boys. But what I'm saying is this isn't a mother, father and their four biological kids. This is Carol. She lives next door and is my best friend. This is her son, Simon. He's a year older than you and a freshman. His father died when he was little. Carol traveled a lot for her job, so I became Simon's guardian so I could take care of him when Carol was out of town. This is Lukas, he is my biological son by a surrogate mother. He was born in Denmark, before we moved to the States. He's 14 and an eighth grader. These two are Michael and Matthew and they are brothers. Can you see the family resemblance?" Alex nodded his head.

"They were orphaned this past December. Carol and I adopted them, so Carol is their adopted mother, and I'm their adopted father. That also means Simon and Lukas are their brothers."

Alex was taking it all in. He pointed to Zach and asked, "Who's this? He looks too old to be your son."

"That's my boyfriend, Zach Schultz. Simon and Lukas are boyfriends, and Michael's also gay. So, you see, what you thought you saw wasn't really accurate."

The boy examined the photo again. Simon and Lukas were glued together. Simon's arm held Lukas tightly -- their bond obvious once he knew they were a couple. And the same for Zach and Lars, too. They were side-by-side, kneeling in front, Lars with his arm around Zach. With those facts, Alex saw the photo differently.

"This is my family and I love them all dearly. But we are a logical family. We chose to make this family. Yes, I still have family back in Denmark, but Lukas and I came to the U.S. by ourselves and built this family. What I'm trying to say, Alex, is that even while you are still under your mother's roof, you can bring people into your logical family. Friends that feel like brothers and sisters. Trusted adults that feel like parents. These are choices that you can make each and every day. You have the choice to bring good and happiness into your life, or not. Even if you are stuck with someone who has difficulty doing that for you, you can find others that can."

Alex sat quietly and thought about what Lars said. A car horn beeped outside.

"Is that your ride?" asked Lars. He and Alex peeked out the window to see his mother waiting in her car.

"Yep, that's mom."

"Alright. Before you go..." Lars hurried into his office. "Here's a list of AA meetings in the area. There are also a couple Ala-Teen groups too. I want you to pick at least one and attend before our appointment next Thursday. And I would recommend not attending the same meeting as your mother."

Alex nodded and headed to the car.

----------------------     

Christian had a lot on his mind during his ride home. As much as he had a fantastic time hanging out with Emily, he couldn't get the movie and what went on at the cineplex out of his head.

He was still pissed at Lewis and Courtney. He expected to enjoy the movie with his friends, but the other two quickly made the whole thing weird.

Emily was sharing his popcorn and soda and they enjoyed the movie. It turned out, "Love, Simon" was a teen romance about two boys, not a boy and girl. As they were getting into the movie, Christian glanced over and saw Courtney giving Lewis a handjob while they made out.

"Why do you keep looking over there?" asked Emily. She started to turn.

"Don't look!" warned Christian. He caught her chin in time. She turned back to Christian.

"What are they doing?"

Christian tilted his head to the left to get a better view of Courtney's hand gliding up Lewis' pre-cum slicked thick seven inches.

"Earth to Christian."

He blushed. "They're going to get kicked out."

"Stop gawking."

Christian turned back to the screen and sat back in his chair. He whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "She pulled it out."

"What?"

"She's playing with it."

"With what?"

"Lewis'." He leaned forward to see again.

"Quit staring," she scolded, elbowing Christian.

He blushed again. After a few handfuls of popcorn, Christian reached for the soda and peeked down the aisle again. Emily's face moved in front of Christian's. "Watch the movie."

They both sat back, neither checking on Lewis and Courtney for the rest of the movie. But that didn't end things for Christian. If Lewis hadn't embarrassed him enough, Christian was mortified by crying at the end of the movie.

He pedaled in anger. Why would Lewis do something like that? And Courtney, playing with Lewis' big hard... "What the fuck! Why'd they have to do it where everyone could see?" thought Christian.

With his bike locked in the garage, he stomped up the stair to his room and fumed.

----------------------     

"Oh shit! Look at the crowd," called Lukas, trying to get the other boys' attention.

"Wow!" Michael couldn't believe the crowd.

Zach walked up and joined the boys standing along the railing of the pier. The beach was covered with people waiting for the show. "I just spoke to the stage manager. He said the city officials are estimating the crowd to end up being about 25,000 or so. By far the biggest crowd they've ever had. Looks like Khalid is a big draw."

"Well," laughed Matthew, "they certainly aren't here to see us. No one even knows we're playing tonight."

"Being able to say you opened up for Khalid and played in front of 25,000 people will look good on the band's resume. Plus, we'll have plenty of footage to prove you did it." Keith was hopeful the crowd size would come through in the video -- especially from the drone which was already in flight filming the crowd from the back, looking towards the stage to help viewers truly understand how big this audience had become.

The crowd size didn't help the boys' nerves. They were performing mishmash of tomorrow night's encore -- songs they'd never performed live. Their songs were chosen to engage the audience. As an encore for the Grand Opening, the audience should be primed to join in. Today, however, they were performing five songs to warm up the audience before the main acts and the boys had no idea how the audience would react.

The band's small set up had been placed on a mini stage and wheeled out front and center. Simon had his standing double-bass, Lukas a stripped-down drum kit consisting of a high-hat, snare, bass, floor tom, and cymbal, Michael, Matthew and Zach had their acoustic guitars waiting for them on the stage and they had permission to use the next act's piano, so they didn't have to bring their own.

To announce the start of the show, the stage lights went dark. The crowd began to quiet and settle in for the show. Michael carried his new Lanikai Black Satin Acoutic/Electric Tenor Ukulele out onto stage and waited behind the mics for the lights to come back up. A single spot light lit, revealing to the crowd a middle school aged boy standing alone on stage. He began strumming his uke, bobbing with the music and tapping his toe. He played the intro several times through, watching the crowd beginning to bob their heads. A few even clapped along with the upbeat tune. Then Michael began singing the lyrics to Twenty-One Pilots, "House of Gold".

She asked me son when I grow old,
Will you buy me a house of gold?
And when your father turns to stone,
Will you take care of me?

The stage lights came up and Matthew, on guitar, joined Michael for the next stanza. Zach, on keyboard, joined in on the chorus. When the second verse started, Simon and Lukas added bass and percussion. The song continued to build until it climaxed at the end of the last verse when the band cuts out leaving Michael alone on the uke to sing the chorus one last time:

I will make you queen of everything you see.
I'll put you on the map,
I'll cure you of disease.

The crowd enjoyed the surprise opening act. It looked like a bunch of kids, but they didn't sound like it. The boys knew they needed to build on that momentum, so they quickly started the next song. Michael and Zach picked up guitars and Matthew grabbed the mic off the stand. The mic for Michael's guitar was set for reverb to create an echo effect and he started plucking out the guitar opening Edge and U2 made so famous. The crowd cheered when they recognized the song, especially when Matthew came in with the lyrics. The boys felt the sound from the crowd when they joined in to sing the lyrics:

Where the streets have no name
Where the streets have no name
We're still building and burning down love
Burning down love
And when I go there, I go there with you
It's all I can do

The band fed off the energy and the crowd responded.

For the next song, Michael picked up his uke again and stepped up to the mic. "How's everybody doing tonight?" The crowd cheered. "Good. Good. I wanted you to grab someone you love and sing along." Michael started playing the uke and the band joined in on one of the most popular songs on the radio -- "I'm Yours" by Justin Mraz.

After the song ended, Matthew picked up his old trumpet. He swore after eighth-grade band he'd never play it again, but it ended up making its way to East Harbor and the band found a song to put Matthew's skills to good use.

Michael got a drink of water while Matthew prepared the crowd to participate. "So, we need your help with this next song. Can you do that for us?" There was a lukewarm response from the audience. They didn't know the band and had no idea what they'd be getting themselves into.

"Alright then, when I count to three, I need you to shout back, 'Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!' You got that? It will go like this -- one, two, three, yeah, yeah, yeah! Let's give it a try. One, two, three, yeah, yeah, yeah." The crowd joined in, a bit more positive than when he asked for their help. Matthew repeated it with just the men, just the ladies and then brought Michael in to play the uke so Matthew could cue the audience to respond when the music stopped, and he pointed to them.

Lukas checked in to see if everyone was ready and begin the opening drum riff. Michael joined in on uke and then they stopped, and everyone shouted, "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" This time, the crowd got into it. Their excitement would grow throughout "We Don't Believe What's On TV" by Twenty-One Pilots.

Michael started singing the song and Simon joined in plucking out the rolling bass line he'd modified to his liking. When they got to the chorus, it was only Michael's vocals and Matthew on trumpet, and the audience members who knew the song singing along.

I don't care what's in your hair,
I just wanna know what's on your mind.
I use to say I wanna die before I'm old,
But because of you I might think twice.
Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!

They had the crowd on their feet, punching their fists in the air shouting "yeah" and having fun.

The song ended and the boys each set their instruments down and grabbed a mic. The stage crew rolled the mini stage off and started quietly tearing down and packing their equipment while they performed the final song to their pre-recorded audio.

"We have one last song for you tonight, but first, I think we should introduce ourselves. We are At the Majestic from down in East Harbor. I'm Michael and these are my brothers Simon, Lukas and Matthew. We aren't all bio-bros, but that doesn't matter. We are blood. Race, religion, politics, orientation, or any of that shit -- it doesn't matter. We are humans. We are blood. Put your arm around your friends, hold hands, and be as one. Please sing along with us on the chorus."

The boys stopped singing and prompted the audience to continue singing. The music ended and the crowd continued to sing.

"Keep singing and know we love you," said Michael. The boys walked off the stage and handed the mics to the stage crew while the crowd continued singing.

Keith greeted Zach and the boys. He handed them bottled water and said, "I know I sound like a fucking broken record, but you guys were awesome tonight."

The boys smiled and chugged their water, walking to the trucks where the last of their equipment was being loaded. Professional roadies were fast and efficient, especially between acts during a live show. It was a good thing since exhaustion was setting in as the adrenaline from performing wore off. They'd known for months how much work they'd have over spring break. Despite all the warnings from Carol, Lars and Zach, they never dreamed of being this tired. They yearned for the nap they'd take on the way home.

Michael nudged Lukas. "Who's that with Zach?"

Lukas shrugged as they watched Zach speaking to a frumpy, white dude who looked to be in his 50s. The man was unassuming with his gray hair brushed straight back, dark rimmed glasses, and an untucked, wrinkled, light blue button-up shirt. The blue jeans and tennis shoes didn't give them any further clues to who he was or what he wanted.

Zach waved for the boys to follow then he and the man turned and walked away from the concert stage and pier. They caught up to the adults at Starbucks and followed them inside.

The older man turned to the boys. "Hey guys, I just flew in from New York this afternoon and I need some caffeine. Order what you want, it's on me."

The boys looked at each other and orders. It was a bit awkward while they waited for the drinks to be made. Once drinks were in hand, they migrated to the back tables and pushed them together.

"Sorry for the secrecy," the man started, "but I really don't like throwing my name around too much in case someone recognizes it -- especially at shows like this." He handed each boy his business card. "I'm Jonathan Daniel of Crush Music. We manage bands." Jonathan took a sip of his soy cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso while the boys studied the business card.

They were skeptical and Simon was the first to voice it. "Okay, I've never heard of Crush Music. Who do you manage?"

"Well, you've probably heard of Sia, Fall Out Boy, Weezer, and a few months ago, I signed Green Day." The mouths of all four boys hit the floor.

"Don't get too excited, I'm not saying I'm going to sign you. At this point, Crush is only signing established acts. But I know talent when I see it. I may be able to help you get in touch with the right people and make introductions."

Jonathan spent the next 30 minutes learning about each of the boys and the band. From their phones, they shared some of their original material with the man.

"You know," noted Johnathan before taking another sip of his drink, "Green Day and Weezer are playing Dodger Stadium later this month."

"Yeah," said Michael with excitement, "we got VIP tickets to see them in San Diego."

"Awesome," replied Jonathan. "I've got to get back. I want to see Khalid. Between you and me, now that he was nominated for all those Grammy's, I think his career is going to explode and I want to sign him. If I don't speak to you sooner, I'll see you guys at the San Diego show."

They headed back to the stage. It was too loud to really talk, so they shook hands and waved goodbye. Joining the co-eds who were busy downloading footage, they loaded up the trucks and headed back to East Harbor.

Despite the excitement of meeting Jonathan and what that might mean, Michael was asleep before they hit the highway and his brothers were close behind.

----------------------     

Lars poured another cup of coffee and returned to his office. 'I am drinking way too much of this stuff,' he thought, then chuckled at the idea of ever stopping.

It wasn't often he had an evening to himself. He'd always found working before bed to be productive, but he wasn't sure if it was because he was wired that way, or it was out of habit from years of taking care of Lukas and Simon, then catching up on work after he put them to bed.

Checking the time, he figured Zach and the boys were on their way back from Santa Monica and Carol was working from her office at the Majestic. He started typing up some additional patient notes when his phone rang.

He checked the caller ID before he answered and was surprised to see who was calling. "Gladys, how are you doing this evening?" Sam's mom calling wasn't a complete surprise. Since Sam came out, she'd called Lars numerous times for advice, or more commonly, to have her concerns and worries allayed. Those calls, however, were always during his office hours.

For the next 10 minutes, Lars didn't get a word in edgewise. He managed a few interjections to let her know he was still on the phone, but Gladys was on a roll. Her excitement could not be contained.

"Well, Gladys, I think it is perfect timing. As I mentioned before, don't take any placements. I have a feeling I'll be calling you soon. Just be patient."

After Gladys rattled on for a few more minutes, Lars was able to end the call and get back to work. Grabbing a Post-It, he made a note to himself to call Gladys back to ask her how she was at baking.

----------------------     

"MMMmmph!" cried Jack with a mouthful of cock. He slammed his erection into Derek's mouth and repeated the cry with each twitch of his boy spike.

Derek smiled best he could. He loved getting Jack off. His friend had the most intense orgasms and Derek knew just how to make them happen. He also enjoyed his friend's balls resting on his nose while Jack's cock violently twitched in his mouth.

Despite his earth-rocking orgasm, Jack intensified his work on Derek's needy penis. His mess of brown hair flopping up and down as he worked to bring Derek to the same conclusion. In no time, Derek fired a few thin shots of boy's cream to reward Jack for a job well done.

Jack recovered and rolled off. Derek spun around to lie next to his friend. Lying on his side, Derek watched Jack's chest rise and fall as he came down from his cum. When Jack finally opened his eyes, Derek scooched over and draped his arm over Jack's chest.

"I wish you were gay," stated Derek, never one to beat around the bush.

Derek expected the same response he always got from Jack. Since they started this little fling back in September on Derek's eleventh birthday, Jack always answered, "But I'm straight."

But tonight, Jack answered, "I wish I was gay." He turned his head to look at Derek. "You'd make a great boyfriend." The smile he thought would spread across Derek's face didn't materialize. Instead, tears welled up in Derek's eyes.

Jack pulled Derek into a hug. Derek rested his cheek on Jack's chest. "I'm sorry," said Jack. "If I were gay, or even bi, I'd want you to be my boyfriend. But I just don't like boys that way. You know, like romantic and all the mushy stuff. And you deserve someone better than Trajan. I never liked the way he treated you."

Derek nodded his head. He did deserve someone better than Trajan. He didn't understand why the teen had been such an asshole that afternoon. In reality, it had gone on much longer than just this day. Derek understood that he was more of a fuck buddy for Trajan, than a boyfriend.

Derek lifted his head and asked hopefully, "You could be my 'until boyfriend'?"

Jack raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"We could be boyfriends until you find a girlfriend."

"You're so sweet Derek. You're my best friend and I don't ever want to mess that up. If I was your 'until boyfriend', at some point we would breakup and you'd get hurt. I never want to do that to you."

Derek's hope faded. "I know."

"But that doesn't mean we can't mess around like we already do." That brought the smile back to Derek's face. Then his eyes looked serious.

"Has your uncle stopped yet?" asked Derek.

Jack's brow furrowed. "No, I haven't said anything to him again."

"You know what he's doing is raping you."

"I know. It's so confusing. He's figured out how to make me have my cums just from him fucking me. I don't even have to use my hands. It feels really good, even when I don't want him doing it to me my cums just happen."

"I know what you mean. Those are the best."

"Yeah," agreed Jack. "But you know, what's happening between me and Uncle John isn't too different from what went on between you and Trajan."

"Except one big fact. It was my choice to get with Trajan. You've never had any say so. That's fucked up."

"Yeah. I just worry about the mess that will happen when I say no. If he won't stop I'll have to tell my mom or dad and everything will go to hell." The boys were quiet for a bit, lost in thought.

Jack perked up. "You know who you should date?"

"Who?" wondered Derek.

"Michael."