Chapter 2

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Brian

"The difference between our beer and their beer," I address my small audience, "is that our beer says…" I pause for a moment and toss a green apple into the air. "Sex." I finish as I catch the apple, "Not Clydesdales. If you want to be cool, if you want to be popular, if you want to get…laid." Corporate type lady in the back gives me the eye. I ignore her and continue. "This is the beer you drink."

"But what about the model?" asks my client. "Are you sure he isn't too…uh…uh…"

I eyeball him and toss my apple up again. "Gay?" I finish for him; the man's expression tells me I hit it on the head. "Ladies?" I ask, as I look to my assistant, Cynthia, and corporate lady.

"I wouldn't care if he was," answers corporate lady, "I'd sleep with him anyway." Cynthia busts out laughing.

I look to hot, straight guy in the front, who's been staring at me and playing with his wedding ring throughout the whole presentation. "What do you think?" I ask, then take a bite of my apple. It's all I can do not to bust out laughing as he can barely take his eyes off my lips.

"I hadn't thought about it," he answers and I can see the absolute bullshit of that statement in his eyes.

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Justin

I'm in my favorite place in the whole school. The boys' locker room right before football practice. Naked boys, boys in tight football pants, it's all good. I move my gaze across the locker room and eye Chris Hobbs. He is so fucking hot. I've known him forever and truthfully have always had kind of a crush on him.

Not wanting to draw too much attention, I turn away from Chris and shoulder my backpack. I turn and look into the showers for a moment. Whoa, totally hot guy showering. I look around quickly and then "accidentally" drop my books so I have to bend down and pick them up, getting an even better view of the athletes and their assets.

I go outside to find Daphne and we sit on the brick wall that is close to the football practice field. I sketch Chris and the other players as Daphne nibbles on a sandwich.

"Guess what I was doing last night?" I ask her. This is it. I hope she doesn't hate me after I tell her.

"Sleeping?" she says, "same as me?" She doesn't look at me.

"Having sex. All night." I giggle a bit. "With that guy I met. Brian Kinney. We did it until six in the morning." She doesn't say anything, just looks at me. "Well," I prompt, "aren't you shocked?" I don't want her to be mad at me, but shocked or even a bit surprised would be nice.

"Not really," she shakes her head, continuing to eat her food.

"Oh," I say, a little disappointed.

"Well, I kind of figured that you're." She shakes her hand back and forth. "You know. Even though you never told me," she accuses.

"I'm telling you now."

She takes a deep breath. "Want some of my veggie wrap?" She hands me the sandwich and of course I take it, because I am always hungry. She looks over at me and wrinkles her nose. "So, what's it like?"

"Well," I laugh, "I started out as a tight end and ended up a wide receiver." We both laugh together and suddenly there's a football flying toward me and I catch it.

Chris Hobbs comes running up and I throw it back to him. "Thanks," he calls.

Anytime, I think to myself.

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Brian

Cynthia and I stand in the door of the conference room seeing our clients out.

"Thank you," corporate lady shakes Cynthia's hand and then mine. "Good to meet you," she says to me, letting her eyes linger a bit longer than necessary, then her colleague is right behind her and she moves on.

I let my gaze fall back on hot, straight guy, who is still at the table placing papers in his briefcase. Cynthia catches me. "He's married," she teases.

"Uh huh."

"With two children," she tries again.

"Ah, a family man." I love a good challenge.

He walks over to us. "Excuse me. Could you tell me where the men's room is?" He glances at me and I think this is not going to be much of a challenge after all.

"Yeah," Cynthia answers him, "it's just down the hall and to the left."

"Thanks," he smiles at Cynthia and then looks at me again before he moves off.

I don't take my eyes off of him as he makes his way down the hall. "That's a long trip," I comment, "he might get lost."

"I'm sure you'll show him the way," Cynthia says from over my shoulder.

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Justin

Daphne and I are still on the wall and she's moved on to eating an apple. "There I was on my back," I tell her, "and there he was on top of me, slipping it in."

She makes a face. "That must have hurt. Didn't it hurt?"

That's an understatement. "Yeah, at first it felt like someone was shoving a broom up there. But, I told him to go slower and he did. Then I stopped thinking about it when I saw his face. His eyes were closed; his mouth was open." Daph smiles at me. "In a sort of smile, like he was in another place. A beautiful place. That place was me." We share another smile. "And his body. God, like, his body was so amazing. I could see every muscle. He said he wanted to stay inside me forever." I look out over the football field, reliving the feeling of Brian inside me. "I can still feel him," I say out loud. "Like, he's still there. Christ. Daphne, everybody talks about having sex, but I really did it." I can't contain my smile.

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Brian

I casually saunter into the men's room and find hot guy standing at the bank of urinals. I move over to the one right next to him. "I had to piss during that whole pitch," I comment, "didn't think I could hold it."

He turns and smiles at me. "Your presentation was very impressive."

"Think so?" I ask as I glance down at his cock, then he takes a peek as well.

"Yeah, it was very impressive," he answers with a small smirk.

"I'm glad you liked it, because that's what we're here for." I make eye contact. "To please the client."

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Justin

"So, like, what is he now?" asks Daphne as we walk away from school. "Your boyfriend?"

Please, yes, please let him be my boyfriend. "We just met," I say to her.

"Well, do you love him?"

If anyone had asked me yesterday if I could love a guy that I met less than twenty-four hours ago, I would say hell no. But, with Brian… "I don't know," I say to Daphne because I don't want her to think I'm crazy. I do know. I can't lie to her. "Yeah." I let out a laugh. “I love him."

"Does he love you?"

"He said he did."

"When?"

"Well," I concede, "when he was about to shoot. He was moving really fast and he let out this groan like nothing I'd ever heard before. That's when he said it. Right when he came. He said, 'I love you,' then he leaned in and kissed me." And it had been such a tender kiss that I couldn't doubt that he meant it.

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Brian

We stand side by side at the sinks washing our hands. He finishes and clears his throat. "Well, I guess we should be getting back."

"Yeah, I guess so," I reply.

He turns and holds out his hand. "It's been a pleasure."

"It can be even more of one," I say pointedly, ignoring his outstretched hand.

He pretends to be puzzled. "Excuse me?"

I start to walk past him, but at the last second grab the front of his shirt and drag him with me. I turn and back into one of the stalls dragging him with me. Once inside the locked stall, we start unfastening each other's clothes. "You know, I'm never wrong," I comment about my finely tuned gaydar.

"Huh?" is all he can say.

"Nothing, buddy," I reply as I reach up for a kiss.

"No, I don't kiss," he exclaims. As if that will somehow make him faithful to his wife or maybe even keep him from really being a fag. Bullshit.

"Yeah, right," I reply as I attack his mouth with a searing kiss. Soon I have him turned around against the wall and he puts his arms on top of the stall while I bite his ear playfully, ready to fuck the holy shit out of him. I love the rush of public sex. Knowing that anyone could walk in at any moment is a real high. Public sex at work? Even better.

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Justin

I'm trying to find the right thing to wear and my mom is seriously getting on my nerves. She follows me to my closet. "Justin, did you hear me? I said you're not going."

Not going to try and find Brian again? I don't think so, mom. "I'm going."

"You were just there last night."

"So, what?" I ask, as I toss a shirt on the floor in her direction. I really want her to go away now.

"So, I was planning on taking you and your sister out for pizza." I toss another shirt and it hits her in the face. "You know I expect you to clean up this mess," she nags. I ignore her and she just keeps on yapping. "I don't understand why you have to spend all your time with Daphne." Aha. I find the shirt I want and walk out of the closet. Mom's still there, going at it. "Of all the beautiful clothes your father and I buy for you, you have to wear something that no longer fits? That is too tight."

No shit mom. Seriously, take a chill pill. "That's why," is all I say to her as I head out my bedroom door.

"Justin!" she calls after me. I turn to look at her. "Don't I get a kiss good bye?"

I head back and plant a kiss on her cheek. She puts her hand up to my face like she wants to say something, but she doesn't. I turn and walk out then I hear her call, "I expect you to call!"

Yeah, right, mom. When I call, what do you want me to say? Hi mom, I'm here fucking this much older man again. I met him last night when I lied and told you I was at Daphne's. Oh, and by the way I'm gay. No fucking way.

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Brian

Mikey and I are in my jeep heading to some straight bar so he can apparently have a hetero hook up with some fucking girl from work. Christ, I can't believe the shit he gets himself into.

"I need a secret code word like, Shazam! In case I get in a tight spot, then you can come in and rescue me."

"Tight spot." I laugh. "How about butt plug?"

He turns to me. "Butt plug might be a little hard to work into a conversation," he retorts.

"Because that's what you are; pretending to be one of them."

"I couldn't help it."

"Well, you could have told her the truth instead of acting like a scared little faggot. You should have just said, 'I take it up the ass, sweetheart. Deal with it.'"

"Right, right. By the way, I notice you got the Jeep repainted." Ouch, hit me where it hurts, Mikey.

We pull up to the bar and Mikey opens his door. "God, this place is like breeder central. Butt plug, butt plug, butt plug," he starts repeating over and over.

I push him out of the Jeep and he shuts the door. "See ya, Mikey," I call to him and drive off to visit my son at Muncher Villa.

I should have known that when I got the call to come over that there would be an ulterior motive. I hadn't been in the house more than ten minutes when Mel was shoving papers for some fucking life insurance policy in my face. I just love how all of a sudden I'm one of Gus' fucking parents when there's money involved.

"A million dollars?" I ask in disbelief.

"That's the general idea," Mel replies.

"A million fucking dollars?"

"Brian please, you'll wake the baby," Lindsay pleads.

I lower my voice a bit. "Well, the answer is no, definitely not."

"I don't understand the problem," Mel snorts, "I mean Lindsay told me you offered to help support him."

"It was very generous." Lindsay's using her peacekeeping voice now.

"Well, that's different than a life insurance policy." I move over to the couch to sit next to Lindsay.

"It's simply in case something happens to you," Mel tries to reason.

"Like, I'm decapitated at a railroad crossing, or burned beyond recognition in some gas explosion," I place a gentle hand on my sleeping son and look up at Mel. "You know, I can just imagine the grisly deaths you've conjured up for me."

"Like, in case you get sick," she smugly replies.

Oh, I see now. Of course, with my lifestyle. I'm sure to get AIDS. That must be a given. Bitch. "Ah," I reply, trying to keep my cool, "even better."

"Considering your life," Mel adds, "I mean when's the last time you were tested?"

"Six months ago." Like it's any of your business. "I was negative."

"That's twenty-six weeks and one hundred and eighty-two one night stands."

"You know I've always admired people who multiply in their heads. And I'm always careful."

"Look," Lindsay interrupts our sniping. "This isn't for us, it's for our son. We need to make sure he'll be provided for." Ooh, good one Linds, throw the guilt in.

"And all I have to do is die," I snap at them.

Mel reaches for the papers and shoves them at me. "Hopefully not before you sign these papers." She grins at me.

I get the fuck out of there as fast as I can. I am still fuming at the nerve of that cunt, Melanie. Well, fuck her. I may never die now, just to spite her. I pull out my phone and call Mikey.

"Hello, sports fans," he says into his phone. Fuck, can't he ever just answer his God damned phone like a normal person?

"I'm coming to get you," I bark at him.

"It's okay; I'm having a good time. She's really, really nice."

Oh, what the fuck? I really don't need this right now. "She's really nice? Do you think she and her friends would be so nice if they knew the little charade you were playing? They'd probably tie you to a fence and bash your brains in."

"They're not like that," he retorts.

"Not like that, huh? Listen to me, Mikey. Are you listening?"

"Yeah, I'm listening."

"There's only two kinds of straight people in this world. The ones that hate you to your face and the ones that hate you behind your back. Now, get the fuck out of there because I need you." That'll do it. In all the years of our friendship, Mikey could never resist the call of my need. And I need a fucking lot, even if I pretend I don't.

After I collect him from hetero central, we head over to Woody's for a drink. Oh, and lucky for us it's karaoke night. Emmett is up there doing a fabulously ghastly version of Aretha Franklin's Respect. Mikey and I stand there for a second and watch, letting our heads gently bump together for a second.

Suddenly I look up and a blond head turns around to face us. "Hi," blond boy from last night.

I look at Mikey. "Oh shit, just what I need. What's his name?"

"Justin," says Mikey, a little irritably, "his name's Justin. I can remember it and I didn't even fuck him. Why can't you?"

Mike follows me into the bar. "Because I did," I retort as we approach the kid. I give Justin a snarky smile. "So, Dawson, how are things down at the creek?"

Emmett finishes his song and Mikey and Ted lead him down from the stage and over to our table. "How about a round on me?" says Ted.

I'm still pissed about the munchers and their life insurance crap and I'm itching for something else. "I've got a better idea," I interject. "Let's move on."

"What's wrong with here?" Mikey practically whines.

"I've had everyone here."

"My problem, precisely," adds Ted.

"You haven't had me," Mikey looks at me.

"Oh, yeah?" I ask.

Mikey shoots me a look.

"What?" asks Ted as he and Emmett stare at us. "You never told us."

"There's nothing to tell," states Mikey.

Everyone looks to me and for whatever reason I'm up for telling another story from my past. That's two in two nights. I don't let myself think about how this may somehow be connected to the blond boy, who has been silent so far, but is listening raptly. "We were up in his room. We were fourteen, fifteen, tops. We were supposed to be studying, whatever. Only, we're not. Were looking at this trashy photo mag his mom swiped from the beauty parlor. Anyway, there's this shot of Patrick Swayze from Dirty Dancing. Without his shirt on."

"Ahh," responds Ted as he too, is swept away in our Patrick Swayze moment.

"So, I've got this hard on just from looking at it and I glance over at Mikey and guess what? He's got one too."

"Okay, you can stop now," Mikey snaps at me.

Of course, I just continue the story. "Twin stiffies. I reach over and start rubbing it, he was practically swooning." I lower my voice to a whisper. "I pop it out and start stroking it, nice and slow. We're both this close." I hold my thumb and forefinger close together. "And…his mom walks in without knocking!"

Everyone except Mikey starts laughing. "They always do," Justin chimes in. "Did she see it?"

"I don't see how she could have missed it," I reply.

"Only, we didn't cum, so it doesn't count," grouses Mike as he shoots me another look.

"Ah, Dirty Dancing," says Emmett with a sigh.

"That's a really old movie," comments blond boy.

"What?" I ask.

"That's a really old movie," he repeats.

I am suddenly irrationally angry with him. "It's not that old."

He just looks at me and then suddenly gets a gleam in his eye. "How old are you?" he asks me boldly.

"Uh-oh," comments Ted as he and the others almost back away.

I admit it; my age is a sore subject with me. Everyone knows that, except for this blond boy twink apparently. "How old do you think I am?" It's a loaded question, I know, but might as well test the waters, as it were. Ted and Emmett are on alert, ready to duck if I explode.

"Thirty-three," he blurts out and my so-called friends bust out laughing.

Oooh, wrong answer, blond boy. That was one pop quiz that you fail. "Fuck. You." I tell him.

"He's twenty-nine," blabs Mikey.

I push him. "And fuck you too. What did you tell him for?"

"Fair's fair," Mikey simply responds.

"We all know what that means," Ted taunts me. "In a few months you'll be thirty."

Thanks for fucking reminding me, Theodore. "Well," I reach over and set my beer down, "you ought to know. You already are." I really don't need them and their shit. I walk out of the bar and head to Babylon to get my fucking twenty-nine year old dick sucked.

As I head down the steps, Mikey's following me. "Oh no, you don't. Come back here. You're not sticking us with that kid. He's your responsibility." He grabs my shoulder and stops me. "Now get back in there."

The fuck he is. That is fucking it. I've had it. "You know, I'm getting a little sick of people telling me what's my responsibility. If Lindsay and Melanie want to have a baby, that's their responsibility. If what's his name, Justin," I yell his name back to the bar, "wants to go out and pick up guys while he's still in high school, that's his responsibility. My responsibility is to myself. I don't owe anybody a God damned thing!"

"Calm down," yells Mikey.

I stop queening out and look at him for a minute, then pull him into a hug. "I gotta go," I say softly in his ear. Before he can protest, I'm in my Jeep speeding away.

==================================================================

Justin

I follow Michael and those two other guys, Ted and Emmett I think, out of Woody's. Brian left and I know I pissed him off somehow, but I'm not sure what I did wrong.

"Anybody up for Babylon?" Asks Emmett.

"I was thinking Boytoy," replies Ted. "You know, I haven't been snubbed by a twinkie in weeks."

When we get to the bottom of the steps I move away from them a bit, not really sure what to do. I know that I should probably leave, but I can't. These are Brian's friends and if I can't be with Brian, then his friends will just have to do. The three of them are talking and I think it's about me, but I can't hear them. Finally, Ted and Emmett move off down the street and Michael turns to look at me. "Come on, Boy Wonder; let's go get something to eat." He starts down the street and I follow.

He leads me into this funky restaurant called the Liberty Diner. There must be every cross section of gay culture in here. I've gotten more than a few appraising looks but I can't help but think that none of them are Brian. Michael just ignores it all and guides us over to sit at the counter.

I take off my jeans jacket and fold it into my arms. "After I came all the way down here to see him." I pout. "He doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Yeah, well," starts Michael. "The thing you gotta know about Brian is…” He looks up at me. "He's not your boyfriend. Brian doesn't do boyfriends."

He looks almost sympathetic, but fuck that. He wasn't there last night. He didn't see how good we were together. "Yeah, well, you weren't there when we were doing it. You don't know the things we did. They way he kissed me." I shoot him a look. "You don't know anything." Right, his best friend doesn't know anything. Who am I trying to convince?

"I know this," he counters, "Brian is a selfish prick. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. If I were you, I'd just forget about him." Christ, this is his best friend? Who the fuck needs enemies?

Our attention is drawn away to the waitress as she approaches. "Hiya boys! You getting any?" I have to stare because…oh my God. She's a heavier lady sporting a hideous red wig with, like, this hair thing stuck in it. She's got on a rainbow vest thing with hundreds of buttons and pins that mostly look like they are sporting gay rights slogans. Whoa. "Haven't seen you around here before," she says to me with a chuckle.

"He's new," says Michael.

"And cute," she responds, "every guy in the place has their eye on you tonight, sweetheart." I crane my head to look around.

"Can we order?" Michael asks.

"Shoot," she says as she licks the tip of her pencil, "I bet that'll be the first time tonight!" she laughs heartily, "Am I right?"

"Ha, ha," responds Michael with a fake laugh of his own. "I'll have the chicken fried steak, no remarks, and, uh…" He glances at me. "He'll have a bacon cheeseburger." I'm kind of pissed that he's ordering for me, but it actually sounds really good.

"Please," says the waitress, sounding an awful lot like my mom.

"Please," Michael answers, sounding exasperated.

She turns her attention back to me. "Gotta keep your strength up, Sunshine," she says as she pinches my cheek. "Can't cruise all night on an empty stomach." She gives my cheek a light slap and points at my nose before she moves off to put our order in.

"What a freak!" I say to Michael when she's out of earshot.

"Yeah, she takes some getting used to." He smiles. "But, once you do, can't help but love her."

She comes back over to us. "One chicken fried steak, no remarks, coming up in a flash," she smiles at Michael.

"Thanks, Ma," he says as he reaches up to kiss her.

"You're welcome, baby." She hugs him.

Good job, Justin. Open mouth, insert foot. All I can do is smile sheepishly at both of them.

We eat our dinner with Michael's mom dropping by every few minutes between customers. It turns out that she's really pretty cool, in a loud, obnoxious sort of way. Talk about polar opposites from my own mother.

"You're like so lucky," I say to Michael as we leave the diner.

"I am?"

"Yeah, you're mom's cool about you being gay. If mine found out, she'd kill me." That's a train of thought I really haven't let myself examine too much yet.

"At least it gives her a sense of purpose," he answers. "I mean, without me, she'd be playing Bingo instead of organizing Pride marches and handing out condoms." I laugh a bit. "Do you need a ride?" he asks.

"Uh, I borrowed a friend's car."

"You mean you don't have a Beemer of your own?"

I fucking wish. "I'm working on it," I reply.

"Just remember what I told you about Brian."

"If he's such a selfish prick," I ask, "how come you're always following him around?"

"I'm not always following him around!" he retorts. "We're best friends. We accept each other for who we are. No judgments, no obligations, no questions asked."

Right. He so fucking wants Brian. I may be a kid, but I'm not blind or stupid. "You're just waiting for him to finish jerking you off."

"What?" He's totally indignant. Sounds like I hit it on the head.

"You never got off," I tease him. "That's why you're still hanging around after all these years.

"Go on, little chicken!" he yells, "back to your coop! And don't go looking for him; you'll just make things worse!"

I head back to where I parked Daphne's car. I sit and think about all I've learned tonight. It's been an informative evening, but I still want more answers. I start the car and try to remember how to get to Brian's place.

==================================================================

Brian

I dig through my box of party favors and finally decide that a small bag of Coke will do.

Heading back toward the living room, I stop when I catch my reflection in the mirror. I play with my hair a bit and turn sideways to check out my ass. Not fucking bad for an almost thirty year old new dad.

"I'd fuck you," I say to my reflection. Then my buzzer sounds and I hurry over to the door to let in my trick for the night. I'm anxious to get started and forget this whole fucked up evening. I press the intercom button. "Top floor. Come on up."

Only a few moments pass before there's a knock at the door. I slide it open and instead of the trick I was so looking forward to, fucking blond boy is standing there. And damned if my cock doesn't leap to attention. I'm sure it's because my entertainment should be here shortly. "Christ! What are you…"

"I'm sorry," he interrupts.

"You can't just come here unannounced," I bite out.

He looks upset. "I just want to talk."

I shake my head slightly. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Please. I won't stay long."

He starts to come in, but I put out a hand to stop him. "No."

Just then the guy I picked up earlier shows up. I look him over and with his shaved head and black leather vest, I remember why I invited him here. He is just what I need to make me forget greedy dykes and fawning kids.

He eyes me seductively and slips past me into the loft. "The door was about to shut so I slipped in," he says as his face lingers close to mine for a moment. He checks out the loft. "Not bad," he comments and then turns to look at Justin. "Who's this?"

"No one," I say pointedly, not taking my eyes off Justin.

"I have to see you," the kid practically begs.

"I'm busy."

"I don't mind a threesome," says the trick, "although, he's kind of young."

"He's kind of leaving," I say icily.

"Who's he?" There's no mistaking the jealousy in his voice.

Jesus, kid, get the fucking clue already. I would really admire his tenacity if it wasn't so fucking annoying. "Pardon me for not introducing you," I say sarcastically, "Justin, this is Mr. Goodfuck. Mr. Goodfuck, may I present, Justin."

"Name's George," says the guy.

"Sorry. George. Goodfuck."

"You don't even know him," argued Justin. Why is he still here again?

"Well, I was hoping to get to." I glance at George and then back to Justin. "Now why don't you just scamper on home?" Finally, finally, the kid turns and leaves. I turn back around. "He's my stalker," I comment to George.

"That wasn't very kind," he replies, "sending him off, a kid that age, by himself at this time of night."

I roll my eyes and laugh a bit. "Who are you? Father Goodfuck?" He only stares at me and then looks past me down the stairs. "All right." I sigh and move out the door. "Make yourself comfortable." I pause. "And don't steal anything."

Christ, I can't believe I'm chasing after this fucking kid in the middle of the fucking night with no shoes on even. What in the hell is the matter with me? I make my way down the stairs and out the front doors and there's Justin, leaning against yet another light post. This time, he looks like a pathetic waif though, instead of a sexy trick.

He pushes off the post and starts to walk away. "Hey," I call and he doesn't stop. "Hey, I just left a complete stranger alone in my apartment to come down here and talk to you, so don't run away from me." He's at his car now and I put my hand on the door so he can't open it yet. "We need to get something straight."

He doesn't look at me. "You don't do boyfriends."

"Mikey's been talking to you."

He finally turns to look at me. "You'll fuck anyone! He's ugly and you don't even know him!" He's really worked up now. "And I…I really love…"

Oh, hell no. Not that fucking word. Not coming from this kid. Jesus. "Justin," I say firmly. "I've had you. What happened last night was for fun. You wanted me and I wanted you. That's all it was."

"A fuck?"

"Well, what did you think it was?" He looks down. "Look, I don't believe in love. I believe in fucking. It's honest, it's efficient, you get in and out with a maximum of pleasure and a minimum of bullshit. Love is something straight people tell themselves they're in so they can get laid and then they end up hurting each other because it was all based on lies to begin with." Christ, now he's starting to cry, but I have to say this. I can't let him going on with some fantasy about me that is not going to happen. “If that's what you want," I continue, "then go find yourself some pretty little girl, and get married."

"That's not what I want! I want you."

"You can't have me. I'm too ol…" Fuck, I can't believe I almost said it. As if that's the only fucking reason he can't have me. It's not even a reason at all. "You're too young for me. You're seventeen, I'm twenty-eight."

"Twenty-nine," he answers with an almost smile. Smart little fucker.

"All right." I smile back, then become serious again. "Twenty-nine. All the more reason. Now, go do your homework."

I back away from the car and he starts to sob as he turns to get inside. I just stand and watch as he drives away. There is no doubt in my mind that I've done the right thing, but somehow, something inside me feels wrong. I shove that feeling away and turn back to go inside. Back to George Goodfuck and an evening of fucking and drugs. My favorite way to pass the time.