Chapter 8

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Justin

We all tumble out of Babylon into the cool night air. "Did I tell you my dad wants to send me to military school?" I ask as we head down the steps. "I told him, 'fuck no!'" I exclaim, feeling proud of the way I stood up to him.

"Your dad might be right," Brian replies. "A little military school or something might do you some good." I try to hit him playfully, but he fights me off.

"I always wanted to go to military school," comments Emmett as we walk down the street. "You know, those sleek uniforms, well cut."

"Taking orders," continues Ted. "Getting punished when you're naughty."

Emmett stops and faces the wall sticking his ass out. "Yes sir, sorry sir!" We all take turns slapping him on the rear.

"And don't forget showering with all those cadets," adds Michael.

As we approach his car, Brian stops and holds up a finger at us. We all stop and he spreads out his hands to present the rental car he's been forced to drive since my wonderful father wrecked his Jeep.

"Oh," we all moan as we swarm around the car and Brian kicks the tire.

"Whoever thought we'd see the day?" says Emmett. "Brian Kinney driving an economy compact."

"Sub compact," interjects Ted.

"And I have to get a new car this week," says Brian in a falsely sad voice.

"Another fuck mobile?" asks Michael.

"Please," adds Emmett as he moves in behind me, wrapping his arms around me. "At his age, he needs all the help he can get to attract all those hot young things." He kisses my neck.

Brian removes Emmett's arms from around me and grabs the front of my shirt, pulling me to him. My heart soars, knowing that he doesn't want Emmett to have me and that it's me he's taking home tonight.

"I thought after what happened you might consider something more practical," says Ted.

"What, like something an accountant might drive?" Brian says with disdain.

"You don't want any more weirdoes ramming into you," Michael comments.

"Never heard him complain about that before," says Emmett.

By now he's pulled me into his arms and is ignoring everyone else. I can tell he's anxious to get to the fucking part of our evening and I plan on fulfilling his wish however I can.

"See you later," says Michael as he walks away.

"Later," calls Emmett following Michael and Ted down the street.

Brian and I stand talking quietly for a few seconds and then we kiss. Our foreheads touch for a moment and then I pull away and walk around to the other side of the car.

Brian reaches down to unlock his door, when all of a sudden I hear my dad's voice. I look up just in time to see him attacking my lover.

"Hey," he says, "you fuckin' pervert." The next thing I know, he's punching Brian in the jaw and then he has him down on the ground, kicking him in the ribs.

"Dad!" I yell as I run over to him. I wrap my arms around him and pull him away from Brian. Meanwhile Michael, Ted and Emmett have come running back and are helping Brian up off the pavement.

Brian tries to lunge for my dad and they all hold him back. "It's his dad. Stop it." I hear Emmett say.

I stand and face my father. The man I have always looked up to, loved and admired. The man that I have always worked so hard to please. I don't know who this raving lunatic is, but it's clear that I no longer know my father. I don't think I even want to know him any longer.

He finally speaks. "That's it, Justin. That's it. You come home with me right now or you never come home again."

I just stand there and stare at him, unable to believe what he is saying to me. Somewhere behind me, I hear Brian yell, "Fuck!"

I think of him slapping me in front of our garage, of him ramming into Brian's Jeep and now this. "Never again," I say calmly. He just stands there. "Did you hear me? I said, never again!" The enormity of what I'm doing hits me and I admit I become a bit hysterical. "Go! Get the fuck out of here! Go!" He turns and walks away, but I can't stop yelling at him. "I'm never coming home again," I shout again and I have to put my hand on the wall to hold myself up. "Never!" I scream.

"Justin," Brian calls as he rushes to me.

"Fucking never!!" I yell one more time.

Brian pulls me to him. "Stop," he says as he looks into my eyes. Just being in his arms calms me down a little, but I'm still wound tight. I start to push away and then stop. He looks at me one more time and then gives me a nudge and I know he wants me to get into the car. I walk around the front of the car again and I can't help but look back to where my father has just retreated.

I realize that I'm seventeen and homeless. Fuck.

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Brian

"So my dad was kicking him and beating him," Justin explains to Debbie. We've all retreated to the diner after our little run in with Mr. Taylor. Justin is hyped on adrenalin and talking about ninety miles a minute while waving a cigarette around. It would be funny if my fucking ribs weren't killing me. "So I jumped on his back," he continues. "And I started punching him!"

"And don't forget how you single handedly fought off the attack dogs," says Emmett wryly from where he is sleepily leaning against Ted in the booth across from us.

"Or how you foiled that assassination attempt by the Iranian death squad," adds Ted, and he and Emmett giggle.

Justin just shoots them an evil look, but Deb butts in before he can retort. "You boys think this is funny? Is this your idea of some evening entertainment? This poor child has been fuckin' traumatized," she says as she motions to Justin. "Watchin' his father go berserk like that." Then she turns her evil eye on me. "And as for you." Oh, Christ, here we go. "I told you there'd be trouble and you didn't listen."

I'm about to reply when Justin jumps in. "It's not his fault," he says. This is a switch. I can probably count on one hand how many times someone has actually said that about me. Usually people think everything is my fault. And usually, I just let them. "And I'm not a child," Justin continues. "I'm turning eighteen soon. That means I can vote and get married and join the army."

"Hopefully not in the same day," cracks Emmett.

"Maybe so," retorts Deb. "But as far as your parents are concerned, you're still their sweet, innocent little boy. They're not ready to think of you sucking cock and taking it up the ass."

"Ma, do you have to be so graphic?" Mikey grates out.

"Michael, when I am making a point would you please not interrupt when I'm talkin'?" She raises a hand to her head. "So, what was I talkin' about?"

"Something about…" starts Ted.

"Sucking cock…" continues Mikey.

"Taking it up the ass," finishes Ted.

"Right!" Deb points at Ted then turns back to Justin. "They're not ready to see you as a man. Especially a gay man. They need educating so they know what you're going through."

Bullshit. His fucking lunatic father needs to go to jail. That would be a good education for the asshole. "What about what I'm going through?" I say. "His father almost broke my fucking ribs. You know, I should have him arrested."

"Leave it alone," snaps Deb. "You've done enough damage tonight.” See what I mean? All my fault, all the time.

Debbie turns to leave and seems to waver a bit on her feet, grabbing onto the table to keep her balance. "Ma, are you okay?" asks Mikey.

"Yeah, I'm fine, honey," she answers. "I'm just tired. I've been working since six a.m." She reaches down to pick up her loaded tray. Six fucking a.m.? Christ, it's late at night. Why the hell is she pulling such long shifts? She begins to walk away and all of a sudden, she is falling and then is on the floor lying in a pile of broken dishes.

"Ma!" yells Michael. The diner erupts in activity as we all swarm around her. "Somebody get some help! Somebody get some help!" Michael is almost hysterical now.

"Stop screaming!" Deb yells at him as she frantically tries to find her wig that came off in the fall. "I haven't lost my hearing. I just lost my hair. Oh, Michael," she says as she covers her face with her hands.

"I'm going to take you to the hospital," says Michael.

"No, I have to finish my shift."

"Your shift's over, Ma," Michael says firmly.

She looks up at us. "I swallowed my gum. Michael, help me put this back on." She tries to adjust the wig.

I rub my face with my hand. I don't mind saying I'm scared. As much as Deb rides my ass, I love her and I don't want anything to happen to her. We help her out to Michael's car and follow them to the hospital, with Deb protesting loudly the whole way.

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

We finally get Deb home and have her settled in her robe on her couch. "How about," says Emmett. "I make you some cinnamon toast?"

"And tea," adds Ted.

"I don't want cinnamon toast," protests Deb. "And I don't want any tea. What I want is for you all to stop making a fuss over me and go home. You all have to be at work tomorrow. So do I."

"I already told you, you're not going into work," says Mikey. "You're going to stay here and take it easy."

"I can't afford to take it easy."

"It's not going to kill you to stay home for a day or two, Deb." I say, but I'm beginning to wonder what the hell is really going on here. Vic looks upset.

"Bed rest is an important part of every recovery," adds Justin.

"Thank you, Doogie Howser," snarks Ted.

I watch as Vic goes outside and Michael follows. I know money has always been tight for Deb. I would help her a lot more if she and Vic weren't so fucking proud.

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Justin

I stand and watch as Brian examines himself in his bathroom mirror. "I'm lucky I still have all my teeth. And no black eye." He turns to me. "How do I look?"

"Great," I smile. "You always look great. I'm sorry, for my dad, and everything." I say.

"Well, sorry's bullshit," he says as he leaves the bathroom, turning out the light.

I follow him into the kitchen. "I didn't mean to cause you any problems." He grabs some juice without answering me and then turns around to face me again. "Well, I'm gonna go," I say as I start to head to the door. Please ask me to stay. Please.

"Where?"

"I don't know. I'll find someplace."

"Justin," he says and I stop. He sighs, sets his can on the counter and walks over to me. "You can stay here." I can barely conceal my joy and I immediately head for his bedroom because, before all this crap happened, I distinctly remember that we were going to fuck tonight. I am surprised when he grabs the hood of my sweatshirt and pulls me back. "On the sofa," he says.

What the hell? I dejectedly make my way to the couch and plop down. Why the fuck doesn't he want me? I bury my face in my hands as tears start to well up. Brian's rejection is just a perfect way end to my perfect night.

"Your not crying, are you?" he asks from over my shoulder.

I regain my composure and look up at him. "I'm not some little faggot!" I retort.

"No, you're not," he answers. "You were pretty brave actually, standing up to your father like that." He lightly swats me on the shoulder with the blanket.

"He was hurting you," is all I can say to him. It really explains it all. I won't ever let anyone hurt him if I can stop it and I know he feels the same way. Of course, he would never admit that, but deep down I know it's true.

"Get some sleep," he says as he presses the blanket into my hands and moves back to his bedroom.

I stand up and shake out the blanket. I watch as he takes off his jeans and crawls into bed. He's holding his ribs and I know they must hurt because he's still got his t-shirt and underwear on. I've never seen Brian wear anything to bed. I start to remove my clothes to bed down on the couch, but I can't keep my eyes away from Brian. I smile slightly as I start to form a plan. I'm sure he doesn't really want to sleep alone. He's just upset by all that shit that my dad and Deb tossed at him tonight.

I stealthily creep across the loft and tiptoe up the steps to the bedroom. I crawl up his bed and lie down as quietly as I can. I think I've made it when he turns to me with a look on his face that I can't decipher. I get ready to run, or at least duck, but he just gently covers me with the duvet. He gets kind of this resigned look on his face and turns away from me.

I knew it. He wants me. At least someone does.

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Brian

"So, what do you think, Mikey?" I ask. We're having breakfast in the diner and I'm flipping through car brochures in preparation for my car buying date with Lindsay later. "The Jeep's always hot," I comment.

"What is he doing at your place?" Mikey can't seem to let go of the Justin subject this morning.

I'm so done with that. After having the kid in my bed all night, I really need to think about something else. Sore ribs or not, it was all I could do not to fuck him into the mattress. I did let him give me a blowjob this morning though; I am only human after all. "He had to stay somewhere." I reply. "The Audi TT is a fuck machine, but the guys that drive it usually aren't."

"His dad almost beat the shit out of you," Mikey complains.

"The Boxer's sexy," I say, totally ignoring the conversation he wants to have. "If you have a little dick," I add. "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" he rants. "It's obvious you don't care what I think about your boy wonder. What difference does it make how I feel about your bat mobile? Why don't you get the Jeep for Monday, the Audi for Tuesday and the Boxer for Wednesday?"

"Hey," I say to him. Christ, he’s completely out of control.

"Well, you're sittin' here trying to decide what kind of hot car to buy and my mom might lose her fuckin' house. I gotta get to work."

Christ. Lose her house? Like I'm really gonna let that happen. "Michael," I say to him as I put my arm around him and pull him close. "If you need money…"

"No!" he says.

"Look, I've had an amazing year," I reply.

"That's great," he says as he stands up to leave. "But thanks anyway."

He's such a stubborn son of a bitch. "I'm offering you a fucking gift for Christ's sake."

"I know. I just can't."

"Why?"

"Because you're always there for me. Taking care of me. Fighting off the bullies at school, giving me the answers to tests and taking me to the hospital the first time I got gonorrhea. This is my mom, and this is something I have to do for her. By myself." He kisses me on the cheek and leaves.

I wish he'd just take the fucking money but I am really proud of him for wanting to stand on his own to help out Deb. There's a little voice in my head though, that's saying, 'but she's my mom, too.'

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Justin

Daphne and I cross the street to the school. I'm still in my clothes from the night before and I'm going to get in trouble for not wearing my uniform, but I don't give a fuck. I got to stay at Brian's last night and that's way cool.

"So, my dad almost beat up Brian," I say. "And Debbie almost died in front of us. And then, I spent the night at Brian's. What did you do?"

"Ahh, had vegetarian lasagna and read 'A Lesson Before Dying,' which is exactly what it felt like."

"Justin?" We pause and see my mom standing by her car. "Hi, Daphne," she adds.

"Hi," says Daphne and then walks away. I can't believe she deserted me. Did she not just hear what I said about my dad? Mom steps forward. "I brought you your uniform and your books. I know you've got that essay due today," she says as she hands me my stuff.

"Tomorrow," is all I say. I'm not going to give her an inch.

"You all right?" she asks.

"I'm fine," I reply curtly as I start to head into the school.

She follows me. "I was worried about you last night. Where were you?"

"Where do you think?" I snap back. Like she even gives a shit.

"Justin, please wait. I want you to come home."

Right, so my crazy dad can beat the shit out of me too? I don't think so. "After what Dad did? No Way!"

"He got crazy, he didn't know what he was doing. But we can work this out. I promise."

I stop and turn on her. "Don't promise. Now, would you please go?"

"Do you need anything?" she asks shakily.

"For you to go." The bell rings and I head into the school. My parents can go fuck themselves. I'm not going to live with a maniac who doesn't even want me. Besides, living with Brian is way better anyway.

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Brian

I'm sitting at my desk trying to brainstorm when a vaguely familiar blonde woman comes bursting into my office. "Hi," she says perkily. "Jennifer Taylor, Justin's mother." She comes inside and drops a duffle bag on my desk. "Okay, so, I've got his clothes," she starts unloading the bag. "His sketch pad, shoes, underwear, oh!" She holds up a video tape. "Yellow Submarine. It's his favorite. He's watched it a million times. Did you know he wanted to be an animator?"

"No…I…I…" I'm so stunned I can't even form a fucking sentence.

"You wouldn't," she replies icily. "Check," she says as she puts up a finger and starts rummaging in her purse. She pulls out a check and hands it to me. "Here you go."

I take it and stand up. "For what?"

"Well, Justin's expensive. He eats like a football player and he goes through clothes faster than I can buy them. And he's always needing something for school." She chuckles, but there's really not humor in it. Hysteria is more like it.

"You think he's staying with me?" I ask.

"Where else?"

"Well, I don't know, but he's not moving into my place," I say firmly as I give the check back to her.

"Well," she says as she places the check back in front of me. "He's going to have to live somewhere, since he told me he's never coming home again."

"Why do you care what he says? You're his mother. Come and get him."

"If I came and got him, he would just run away and I might never see him again. Do you know what happens to runaway kids, Mr. Kinney?"

"They end up on milk cartons," I crack.

"Or worse," she shoots back. "At least with you, I know where he is."

She turns to leave and I start putting Justin's shit back in the bag. "He's not my responsibility," I say.

She turns and comes back. "Oh, yes he is," she snaps. "You seduced him. You sle…fucked him, so now he's yours. Just kindly see that he takes his allergy medicine, and uh, does his homework, and gets to school on time." She bites her lip and then turns to go. She stops in the doorway. "And, tell him that we love him." She slams the door on her way out.

Fuck! What in the fuck have I gotten myself into now? I can't keep the kid at my place. What the fuck will I do with a teenager? Well, I can think of lots of things actually, but none that I feel like doing right at the moment.

Part of me has to admire Justin's mom though. She's got big balls, that's for sure. I guess it really explains a lot about the kid and why he won't just go away. I try to imagine my own mother loving me this much. Nope. Can't picture it.

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

Hours later I tiredly slide open the door to my loft. I step inside and toss Justin's bag of shit on the floor. I'm tired, I have a headache and my ribs are fucking killing me. The loft is a mess and I can hear Daphne yelling on the answering machine. "Justin, pick up! Where are you? Are you guys, like, doing it?"

I hang up on her and move into the living room where blond boy is dancing to something on my walkman, wearing one of my three hundred dollar shirts. I go over to him and knock the ear phones off his ears. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Huh?"

"What are you doing?!" I yell at him, losing my patience completely.

"Uh, listening to Moby. He's really hot." He looks scared. Good. "So," he says. "What's up?"

I snap. "What's up is you left my door unlocked. What's up is that this is not a hotel room and you're not on your Blonde Ambition Tour. What's up is that your mother paid me a little visit today. And finally, what's up is you're going to take off my shirt and clean up your shit!" I kick his fucking sneaker out of the way as I make my way to the kitchen. "You know, all I wanted to do is come home, and have something to eat." I look in my fridge.

"I could make you something," he says earnestly as he's removing my shirt.

"Hmm," I answer as I study my empty fridge. "No, you couldn't." I slam the door hard enough to rattle the whole thing. It's only been one day. How could anyone consume that much food in a day?

"I'm sorry I'm in your way," he says.

"Not as sorry as I am," I grate out.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," he responds desperately.

"Well, it did," I say.

"So," he says as he presses his now shirtless body close to me. "As long as we're together. We might as well…" he trails off, grinning at me.

Alarms are going off in every part of my brain. Danger! The twink thinks we're together. I realize he thinks we're playing some fucked up version of house. I decide to nip those thoughts in the bud. I poke a finger into his chest, pushing him away from me. "We're not together," I bite out. "You're here as a result of a series of unfortunate circumstances, which have given me the worst headache of my life. And a duffle bag full," I move to grab the bag and throw it at him. "Of your fucking underwear! Now I'm going to bed." I move up the steps to my bedroom.

"Okay," he says as he starts to follow me.

I turn back to him. "Alone. You go over there and do your homework." I put my hand to my head. "And lights out by eleven."

"Eleven?" he asks in disbelief.

The throbbing in my head goes up a notch. I lean down into his face. "Do you know that I had to promise your mother that you wouldn't be late for school tomorrow?" He backs away from me. "And by the way," I add with a deep sigh. "She sends her love."

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Justin

I'm lying on the couch in Brian's darkened loft, yearning to be with him. Somehow, I don't think the sneaking into his bed trick is going to work tonight. He was so angry at me when he got home. I don't know what his problem is. It's not like I asked to be kicked out of my house.

I think about my room, my own bed and all my stuff. I really want to go home.

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Brian

I lean into the new Jeep Wrangler, checking out the interior. "Gus approves," Lindsay says from behind me, where she's standing with Gus. He's all snuggled into his baby carrier, car seat thingy.

I notice a hot guy checking out a Cherokee across the way. Then he's checking me out. His partner gives me the eye. "Yeah, he's not bad," I comment to Lindsay.

"Of the car," she retorts as she follows me around the front of the Jeep. "He thinks it's you. I bet Justin will like it too, driving around with his sugar daddy." Bitch.

"I'm not his sugar daddy," I bite out. "And would you please leave him out of this?"

"Wow!" exclaims the salesman as he approaches. "What a beautiful baby." He smiles at Lindsay. "Looks just like you."

"Well, thank you," says Lindsay sweetly. "So do our five others. I'm going to go change him, honey," she says to me.

"You do that, sweetie," I reply and kiss her on the lips. We're playing one of our favorite games; Happy hetero couple. It's so fucking ridiculous, but sometimes necessary to get what you want.

"Where's the ladies room?" Lindsay asks the salesman.

"Uh, just around the corner," he replies. "Beautiful family," he says when he turns his attention back to me. He motions to the Jeep. "Uh, you've had your eye on this one."

"Yeah, I notice it comes fully loaded."

"You name it, it's on it," he replies. We both get into the Jeep. "Only, you don't really want this," he says hesitantly.

"I don't?" I ask.

"Fags drive it," he says. "I don't know what it is, but they’re attracted to it like flies. Nice couple like you," he continues, "You want to be in something like that." He points to a sedan.

"Thanks for the warning, but I'm still…I'm curious. Do you think I could take one for a test drive? And then I'll try one of the, uh, straighter models." I smile at him.

"Great idea!" he says, pointing at me.

He calls for someone to bring a car around and I get in. He excuses himself for a moment to take a phone call. I sit waiting for him and he waves to me from the window of the showroom. I wave back, put it into gear and drive straight through the showroom window. I screech to a halt right in front of the asshole sales guy. I turn on the windshield wiper to remove the broken glass and then open the door. As I stand up on the running board, I spot Lindsay. "So, honey, what do you think?" I call to her. She's too shocked to answer me. I look over at sales guy. "We'll take it," I snap as I step down and slam the door."

That felt fucking great. Well worth the price of a window.

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

"I can't believe his mom brought you his stuff," says Ted as we sit at the bar at Woody's.

"Yeah, she practically made a gift out of him."

"Gifts can be returned," replies Emmett, who, by the way, is dressed in this hideous shirt that actually has a window in it that is showcasing his tits. I think it's the tackiest thing he's ever worn, and that's saying a lot.

"I just want him out of my life and out of my house," I reply. Then I glance over and see a most eligible candidate for some evening entertainment. He is tall, dark and handsome of course. "Have either one of you been to Atlanta?" I ask, referring to the 'Hotlanta' slogan on my target's t-shirt.

"No," says Emmett. "But I had a boyfriend from Georgia once. I called him peach fuzz. Bet you can't guess why," he says to Ted.

"Because his butt cheeks were covered with this soft fuzz that looked like two Georgia peaches," he returns with a bored tone of voice.

"Yeah," says Emmett, looking away.

I look back over to Hotlanta. Oh, yeah, he's interested. "Well," I say as I stand up. "I think I'm going to show our guest some Northern hospitality.

In no time at all, we are heading up to my loft in the elevator. Hotlanta is all over me and judging by the size of the package in his jeans, he will live up to the claim of his shirt. We are kissing and he jostles my sore ribs making me hiss with pain as I pull away.

"What's the matter?" he asks, and, okay, don't you fucking tell anyone I said this, but his accent is fucking sexy.

"It's a long story," I reply as we make our way out of the elevator and to my door.

I put my key in and he is on my back, kissing my neck. "Now hurry up and open that door. I can't wait."

"Be patient," I answer. "The South will rise again…and again." I finally get the fucking door open and am greeted by the sound of something dropping and a huge mess in my kitchen. "What's all this?" I ask.

Justin pops up from behind the island. "I made dinner. I had salad, but I dropped it."

"Yeah, you made a fucking mess," I reply angrily.

"I'll clean it up. Don't worry." He finally notices Hotlanta. "Who's he?"

Fuck. Here we go with the jealous blond boy act again. I need to get him the hell out of here. "He's an out of town guest."

Hotlanta walks over. "Hmm, what 'ya makin'? Smells good."

"Jambalaya," Justin answers him and I just walk away. "My mom taught me. Except it's sort of instant jambalaya because I used frozen shrimp and minute rice." Hotlanta looks at me and smiles ruefully and I can't believe this kid is actually sharing kitchen secrets with him. Justin prattles on, "I didn't know how much rice to use and the water for the shrimp overflowed…"

Hotlanta stops him. "Maybe I can help." He wraps an arm around Justin's shoulders. "You know I used to live in New Orleans. My boyfriend and I made jambalaya all the time. We'd just cook…" he looks up at me. "And fuck." I just turn away. "So, you got a spoon?" he asks Justin. He takes the spoon and tries a bite. "Mmm, it's not bad." He looks to me again. "But you know what you need is just an itsy, bitsy pinch of cayenne Pepper. That's what gives it that extra special kick."

That does it. This episode of cooking with blond boy is over. "He's going to get an extra special kick. Later." I turn my attention to Hotlanta. "Now you can either stand around here and eat jambalaya," I say with my best Southern accent. "Or you can come up here and eat my ass!"

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Justin

I can't believe Brian brought a trick here. He knew I would be here. Asshole. After yelling at the guy, he stalks up to his bedroom and opens the glass panels so we both have a view of him. He takes off his shirt and then his wifebeater as he just keeps staring at the guy he brought home.

"Well," Hotlanta says to me. "Maybe we can have some of this after."

"Yeah," I reply in a friendly tone. I'm determined to play it cool and not make a scene. "My mom says it's always better the second day." I offer him a smile as he takes off for the bedroom.

He moves to Brian and they begin to kiss hotly. Brian rips off his shirt and all I can do is just stand there and stare. Hotlanta begins to move down Brian's lean torso and then he's working on the button of Brian's jeans. Brian moves his gaze to me and I get the message loud and clear.

I grab my coat and I'm out of there. Oh, right, I'm homeless now. I run all my options through my mind as I make my way down the cold, dark street.

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

I wake up from my spot on Lindsay and Mel's couch to find the two kissing with Mel's hand up Lindsay's shirt. Yuck. I pretend not to notice.

Lindsay finally realizes I'm awake. "Morning, Justin," she says cheerfully. "How did you sleep?"

"Okay," I reply. "It's a little lumpy."

"Come have some breakfast," says Mel.

Food. Blech. "No, I'm not hungry," I reply. That's a first.

"You've got to eat something," she retorts. "You're a growing boy. Oh, Jesus, did I just say that?"

Lindsay chuckles at her.

"Do you want me to wash the sheets?" I ask, trying to remember my manners.

"Oh, that's okay," replies Lindsay.

"If you'd like, you can wash my car," jokes Mel.

"I really appreciate you guys letting me stay here," I tell them.

"Hey, it's no trouble. You can come anytime. Right, Mel?"

"Anytime," agrees Mel.

I look down at the sketch I did of Brian. His expression is stern and angry, just the way he looked last night. "He hates me," I lament as I slam the sketchbook closed.

"He doesn't hate you," says Lindsay as she makes her way over to me.

"Yes he does," I wail as I put my head in my hands. "So does my dad. I pulled him off Brian and I hit him," I wave my arms around. "And now, I can't even go home." And that's what I really want to do right now. More than anything, I want to go home.

"Sweetie, it's okay," says Mel.

"No, don't say it's okay." I look at her. "And don't say anything bad about Brian either."

"Well, that doesn't leave much room for conversation," she retorts as she drinks her orange juice.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," I say to Lindsay. "What am I going to do?" I can't help it. I start to cry.

"You're going to do one thing at a time," says Mel.

"Right," adds Lindsay. "First you're going to take a shower."

"Then you're going to have breakfast."

"Then you're going to school, okay?"

They make it sound so simple and somehow I feel a little better. I guess I'll just do what they say and take it one day at a time. I get up and head upstairs to shower.

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

At the end of the day I head out one of the back doors of the school. I don't feel like dealing with anyone. I just want to go to Brian's, get my shit and figure out what to do next. As soon as I walk into the small courtyard, I know I'm in trouble. A bunch of the biggest asshole bullies are out here.

One of them closes the iron gates as I approach, blocking me in with them. "Hey, Justin," calls another one. "I hear you're not living at home anymore." He stops me.

"Yeah," I try to laugh. "Fucking Daphne and her big mouth," I reply.

"Maybe it's because you're a fucking faggot," he says as he pushes my shoulders.

"Yeah, you bitch."

One of them knocks my books down and they all continue to call me names and push at me. I bend over to pick up my books. I'm starting to freak out a bit when I hear my name.

"Justin!" I look up and there's Brian in his Jeep. "Get in the car!" he says.

I open the gate and come out. I'm not sure if I should go with him or take my chances with the bullies. He still seems angry at me. "Wh…what for?" I ask.

"I said get in the car!"

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Home," is his only reply.

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

Brian

When I drove up to the school and saw all those assholes picking on Justin, I got so angry. Fuck. Is this what he has to deal with every day? I've decided to take him home to his parents. He's their responsibility and he needs them to look out for him. It's obvious that living with me is not working for either of us.

He finally fucking gets in the car and we drive in silence to his parents' house. I called his mom in advance, so they're both there. She directed me to a chair in the corner with an air of icy, waspish politeness. Justin's father ignores me and I'm just as happy to do the same. Justin sits in a chair across from all of us and has yet to raise his head up.

"Justin," says Mrs. Taylor. "Do you have anything you'd like to say?" When he doesn't respond, she starts speaking again. "Well, in that case, I'll, uh, speak for your father and me. We want you to come home. It's where you belong." She looks over to me. "And I think, uh, Brian would agree."

"What difference does it make what Brian…?"

Mrs. Taylor interrupts her husband. "Excuse me, I'm speaking. Kindly let me finish." He backs off and she looks at her son. "Justin?"

He still doesn't answer her or look up so I speak up. "Look at your mom, Justin," I tell him. He looks up at me and then over to his mother.

"You're staying here," she says to him softly.

"Only if Dad says he's sorry," replies Justin. "To Brian."

Mr. Taylor stands up. "Justin, he is the one who should be apologizing to you for Christ sakes! For making you think he loves you!"

"He never said he loved me," Justin retorts. "He said it was just a fuck. That's all. But, I'm okay with that because that's all it was." He pauses and glances at me and swallows. "All it should be," he finishes.

"I think you should go to your room now," says his mom.

Justin stands up and looks at me one more time before turning to leave. I'm relieved that I've finally gotten him back where he belongs. Then his fucking father speaks again.

"One more thing, Justin."

"Craig," implores his mom.

"No, I'm going to say this." Justin turns to face his father. "If you're going to live in this house, there's rules you have to obey. You are not to go to gay bars or talk about your disgusting lifestyle." Justin just stares at his dad in shock. "And you are never to see him again." The bastard points at me.

No one speaks for a few minutes and then I make a decision that I know I'll probably regret, but fuck if there's anything else I can do. "So, in other words," I speak up. "In order for Justin to live here with you, he has to deny who he is, what he thinks and how he feels?"

"No one asked for your opinion, pal," he spits at me.

I stand up. "Well, that's not love," I state. "That's hate."

"Get the fuck out of my house," demands Mr. Taylor.

Mrs. Taylor just sits on the couch looking resigned.

"Justin, you coming?" I ask as I walk out of the house.

When I get into my Jeep, Justin is beside me.

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

I head to the diner later at Deb's insistence to celebrate Mikey's big promotion at the Big Q. I arrive a little late and find Mikey outside standing under the awning to keep out of the rain that‘s falling.

"Nice going, Mikey," I say as I approach him.

He turns on me. "I wish everybody would just stop congratulating me," he snaps.

"Okay," I raise up my hands. "I take it back."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he says. "I just…yeah, I'll be able to help my mom now. Great. I'm a…I'm a liar." I know he's feeling crappy about pretending to be straight and leading on that Tracey girl. "And don't tell me I should be used to that by now," he snaps.

"That's now what I was going to say. What I was going to say is, it's not lying if they make you lie. If the only truth they can accept is their own." I pull him forward so our foreheads touch. "Now, you'd better get back in there. How can it be a party without the guest of honor?"

I start to walk away. "What about you?" Mikey asks me.

I turn to look at him. "I've got somebody waiting for me," is all I can say.

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

Justin

Brian comes home and dinner is ready right on time. I'm so grateful to him for saving me from my dad and his bullshit rules, but I feel like I have to walk on eggshells with Brian. I'm not sure what to expect from him now.

Thankfully, he's alone this time. "Hey," I say, "you hungry?"

"Not really," he replies as he takes off his suit jacket.

"You gotta eat something," I reply as I scoop food onto plates.

I carry the plates over to the table I have set for two. Brian still hasn't come over, but I just sit down at my place. After a few moments he finally joins me. "So," he says as he pulls out his chair. "What's for dinner?"

"Jambalaya," I laugh. "From last night."

He lays his napkin in his lap and picks up his silverware. I know that I'm staring, but I can't help it. I need to know what he thinks. "It's not bad," he finally says after taking a bite.

He smiles at me and I smile back. "It's always better after the second day," I tell him. We keep eating and I can't help but feel I've achieved an upset. I can't really tell what the prize is, but I know I won it.