Message in a Bottle

Chapter 3

POV JUSTIN

I'm yawning. April. One more month and then I'll have only one year left in this hole of a school and I'll be free. Sister Hallowell says my name more firmly, apparently repeating herself- and I didn't hear her question. Shit!

Just then the bell rings- saved! I get up and put my Chem book in my bag and try to leave quickly.

"MISter Taylor!"

Groan. "Yes Sister?" I say, turning to face her.

"I expect you to pay more attention in class from now on, or there will be severe consequences, do you hear?" she says sternly.

"Yes, Sister. I'm sorry Ma'am."

"Go." She dismisses me and I have to keep myself from breaking into a run as I leave.

Once I get out of the room, I do run down the hall and out of the school. 'One more month, one more month, one more month,' I keep repeating in my head. I just need to last one more fucking month… I run over to Daphne who is talking to a girlfriend, leaning against her car.

"Hey, Jus! How are ya?" she says cheerfully.

"I hate Sister Hallowell." I state flatly.

She grins. "Join the club. Want a ride home?"

"Nah. It's a nice day- I'll walk and maybe do a few sketches. Thanks though."

"Suit yourself. See you tomorrow- TGIF!" She and her friend (Becky, I think) hop in her car and are gone.

I start to walk, enjoying the Spring-like air and noticing how daily it seems the trees are coming back to life after a long winter. I sit and do several sketches of a park close to home- and inevitably, there's that mystery man sitting on a park bench in all of them. Fuck! I'm going insane. I hurry home and decide to take a nap before doing my homework.

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POV JUSTIN- NEXT MORNING

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I mutter under my breath, hoping I'm not late. Today, I guess I'm taking the car and not walking!

Not long ago, I'd started walking to school since the weather had gotten better, even though I had an old beater. Sometimes I'd hitch a ride home with Daph if I was tired by the end of the day. I glanced at the clock. 6:30. I had plenty of time if I drove so I flop on my bed in my stupid school uniform and yank out a sketch pad I hadn't started yet. I'd stashed this in my underwear drawer, having buried it in there. I figured an empty sketch pad wouldn't worry my parents too much if they snooped and found it. And they've both left for work by now, so I start to sketch, not at all surprised as mystery man's haunting, beautiful, long-lashed and provocative eyes form on the paper in front of me. SHIT.

I'm startled when my cell rings. "Hey, Daph," I mumble as I focus on my drawing, my pencil circling in broad strokes across the paper. Daph's the only one to call me, so I figured it'd be her, but…

"This isn't Daphne," an unfamiliar yet oddly familiar voice responds. A male voice. A sexy male voice and despite my 'stranger danger' bells going off, my cock hardens.

"Who is this?" I ask, my voice a little nervous.

"Brian Kinney," he answers simply.

I wait for him to continue; when he doesn't, I start getting really nervous. "Who are you- how'd you get this number?" I should just hang up, dammit- but there's something about this man's voice that keeps me from pushing the 'end' button.

"I got it from a bottle I found on the rocky shores near Galway, Ireland."

I'm silent a full minute letting this sink in. His tone is so calm, like this happens to him everyday. "Um," I finally stutter out. "Um…"

"…Yes?"

"Ireland?"

"Yeah. Your bottle traveled pretty far, didn't it? I'm surprised it didn't get crushed on the rocks here on this beach."

I'm surprised it made it at all.

"What's your last name, Justin?"

"Tay-no. You may want to stalk me and kill me! You may be a fag hater!"

He chuckles. "I sure hope not, Sunshine, since I'm a queer myself."

Huh? "Sunshine?"

"Well, judging from your self-portrait, that would be my nickname for you."

In the back of my mind I'm thinking that no straight guy would say something like that to another guy. I like it. "Where's… um. Where's your Irish accent?" I can hear a slight Brogue tinge to his speech, but nothing like as if he was born and raised there.

He chuckles again. "I'm just here visiting my dad's father- I've been here about 7 months, so I've probably picked up something of an accent being around these folks, but if I spoke true Irish, you wouldn't understand a word I was saying. My dad's-and my roots I guess- are here, so I'm here soaking up my 'true' culture upon my dear old dad's insistence. But I grew up in and still live in Pittsburgh."

My heart leaps into my throat. "Pitts…" I stammer. "*I'm* from Pittsburgh!"

"I know, deeeearie," he says, with a sarcastic tongue in cheek tone. "Your letter said so."

Duh. "So, um. Are you going to call my teacher?" What a stupid question, Justin! Who cares?

"Fuck no. She's got some nerve getting her students to do her data gathering for her. That's lazy and empirically irresponsible."

Now it's my turn to chuckle. "Maybe, but she's the nicest teacher at my school in my opinion. And we got a nice trip to Point Pleasant beach out of it." I'm feeling more and more relaxed with this stranger and I don't get why. There's something very familiar about him.

"Welllll… Sunshine, for you, I'll give her a ring."

My cock, already hard, gets harder with that. "How… how old are you?"

"Why?"

"Just curious."

"I turned 19 not long ago. You still 16?"

"No- I turned 17 not long ago," I say, smiling.

"What are you grinning at?"

"Wha…? How did you know I was smiling?"

"I can hear it in your voice, Sunshine."

I honestly might cum- what is this? I mean… well: what IS this? "It's just.. I… I like it when you call me that…" I blurt out before I can censor myself. "I like you." There's a pause and I feel my skin get goosebumps- I've said too much. "Um… I'm sorry- I shouldn't have said that." I stammer, back to being shy and unsure.

"Sorry's bullshit, Sunshine- I'm glad you like it."

I let out a whoosh of air in relief. "Hey, what time is it there?"

"About 11:45 AM. So it's almost time for you to leave for school, isn't it? 6:45AM?"

I glance at the clock. "Yeah- but I have time- don't hang up yet!" Gawd, Taylor- you sound fucking desperate! And that's what I am… this guy could be a serial killer for all I know!

"Fuck, Justin- you don't know me! I could be a serial killer trying to glean information from you so I can come 'gitcha'."

That freaks me out. "Are you?" I manage in a wavering voice.

"Nah," He laughs. When I don't say anything, I think he realizes how scared he made me. "Hey… hey, Justin, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you- really. I was just kidding around…" His voice is serious, sincere and contrite.

"O…okay. Just don't say stuff like that. I mean, I like you. I feel like I've known you a long time." I nearly slap my forehead with my palm- have I NO control over what I say to this guy?

There's a long silence and I worry that he's hung up and I'll soon hear that 'if you would like to make a call…' message. Then: "I think I like you, too, Sunshine," he says quietly, and I can hear a smile in his voice.

There's a moment when neither of us say anything, but it's not awkward- which is a first for me.

"So, Justin, have you found any other gay people you can talk to yet? That seems to have been a big problem for you when you wrote this," he asks, genuinely interested.

"Er… no," I admit. "And it sucks," I add.

"Well, you have found one now. You can ask me or tell me or talk to me about anything. I know people say stuff like that all the time, but they don't mean it really. Over time, you'll find it's true with me. I've done just about everything there is to do- nothing you have questions about should you feel embarrassed to ask me, okay? Every young gay man needs a mentor, and I think you should follow your dreams and be the best homosexual you can be."

His voice is genuine and I'm touched. "Th.. thanks, Brian. It's going to be hard to talk though since you're in Ireland. My parents will flip with the phone bill alone- let alone, they'd trace it to you and interrogate both you and me," I say sadly. "And this is probably costing you a fortune!"

"Don't worry about that. It's not my phone."

"What? What?" Did he steal it?

"Shhh- it's a good friend's. He has a lot of money and he's very generous with it. And no, he's not my sugar daddy or anyone else's. He's just a good friend who helps people out. I want to be like him in that way someday." He muses. I have no doubt that Brian Kinney will, too. "Anyway- we don't have to talk long distance- I'm coming back to the Pitts tomorrow."

I start laughing.

"What? What's so funny?" He sounds offended or hurt.

"Brian, I'm just so happy! I can't wait to meet you!" I pause. "Do you have a ride from the airport?" I ask boldly.

He hesitates. "I was going to take a cab."

"Let me pick you up!" I blurt out.

"Justin, you shouldn't meet strangers and take them alone in your car anywhere. It's dangerous," he says, his voice full of concerned warning.

"Brian, you aren't a stranger. I'd trust you anywhere. Really. Let me pick you up and take you to your home- cabs are expensive. I don't mind- I have a car, although it's a little beat up."

"Well…"

"How will I know you when I see you?" I ask, not allowing him to back down.

"It might shock you a little when you do, Sunshine," Brian says quietly.

Huh? "Why is that?" Leper, cross-eyed, no arms or legs, four noses… all sorts of things fly through my mind. Not actually that anything would matter. I'd like him the same anyway.

"I can just *feel* the wheel's turning in that pretty little head of yours, Sunshine." Brian chuckles.

I find myself blushing. Thank goodness he can't see me.

"I'm not a freak- on the outside, I mean. Well, usually not. I'm just a little beat up right now." I'm immediately worried about him.

"What happened?"

"Shhh. Never mind- But I'll have a cane, and my face will look a bit… well, black and blue and swollen." He's leaving something out but I can't tell what.

"Did you get in a fight?"

"Boy, you sure are a nosy parker! It was a bit of a one-sided fight, you could say," he admits.

"Were you jumped? Mugged?"

"Don't worry about it- but that's how… that's how you'll recognize me." He's DEFinitely leaving something out, and it worries me a little.

"You're scaring me, Brian."

"Don't be. I appreciate your offer to pick me up, really. And of course, I'll know how to recognize you."

"Huh? How?"

"Justin, think, for fuck's sake."

Oh. Yeah. "Fuck- duh- sorry. My portrait in the letter." I feel so embarrassed. "Um. When should I meet you?"

"I should be through customs and at the baggage claim around 5PM. See you?"

"Yeah…" Gawd- I sound so breathy. "Er… later."

"Later."

I hang up so giddy and excited that I don't even care that I'm a good 20 minutes late for school. Instead of hurrying, I find myself doodling on the inside cover of my Chem book with a grin on my face. I don't even erase the doodle when I realize what I drew.

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