GROOVY KIND OF LOVE *******************
For the disclaimer, please read Part 1.
This story may be reprinted anywhere on the Net, as long
as it's done intact, without changing a single word,
and preserving my copyright & Email address. And that's
Copyright 2001 ThePecman@yahoo.com. All rights reserved. -----------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 19
When I got back to school on Monday, I was surprised to see that there was quite a buzz going on about me. Apparently, word had gotten out about the ski accident over the weekend. I still thought it was much ado about nothing. In fact, I was beginning to wish everybody would just shut up about it.
I sat by myself in the cafeteria, trying to cut off all the fat on the greasy roast beef they served for lunch today. Jesus, it looked like shit, I thought.
Suddenly, I heard a voice off to my right.
"Wil! I've been looking for you everywhere."
I looked up and saw Ginny running down one of the aisles. She ran up and sat down in the empty seat next to me.
"You've got to let me interview you for the school paper!" she said, breathlessly. "My editor wants to put your picture on the front page of Friday's issue. You're the man of the hour!"
I rolled my eyes. "C'mon, Ginny," I mumbled, as I took a bite of the roast beef, which actually wasn't half-bad. "That's a bunch of crap. All the guys on the boat helped. I was just there."
"That's not what I heard," she said. "I just called Sky at home on the phone, and he said you saved his life."
I sighed. I really didn't want to make a big deal out of this. I was just thankful that nothing serious happened.
"I gave him CPR," I said, "but he would've been fine. I think he was already coming to."
"That's bullshit, Larson, and you know it!" said a voice behind me.
I turned and saw the smiling faces of Mark and Barry, from the swim team. They walked over and pounded me on the back. "You're the big hero, man!" laughed Mark.
"Yeah," said Barry. "Sky would've been a dead duck if it wasn't for you, man."
Ginny was furiously scribbling in her notepad. I looked up and shook my head at my two friends, who were grinning at me.
"C'mon, Wil," whispered Mark. "You should milk this for all it's worth. If nothin' else, you can probably use this to get into her pants." He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
"What was that?" said Ginny, looking up from her notepad.
"I said, we were gonna go back and get another carton of milk," laughed Mark.
Barry put his hand on my shoulder. "Wil really did save Sky last Saturday. We were so plastered..." He caught a glimpse of my frantic eyes, and quickly caught himself. "I mean, we were so busy with the boat, we didn't even notice that Sky had hit the buoy. If it hadn't been for Wil, we wouldn't have even found Sky, let alone revived him. Yep, he's a hero alright."
"Wil," said Ginny as she got up, "I'm got to run over to the journalism office and make an appointment with the staff photographer. Can you and Sky come by first thing in the morning and let us take some shots?"
"He should be back to class by tomorrow," I said. "I'll call him at home and check it out."
"Here's my number at the Observer office," she said, handing me a piece of paper. "Call me this afternoon after school, and we'll set it up. And Wil," she continued, smiling at me. "Don't kid yourself -- you are a hero, even if you don't want to admit it."
I grinned. "Alright, alright, I give up," I said, defeated. "Just promise me it won't go on the front page."
"Are you kidding?" she said. "It's been so dull around this place lately, we've got two giant holes to fill in for this week's issue. This'll be the biggest story we've had all month!"
I sighed. I guess I was doomed to be a hero, no matter what.
Sky was back to school the next day. He was now using a cane instead of the crutches, but he was definitely getting as much sympathy as he could out of it. Melissa walked beside him, carrying his books. I felt a little pang of jealousy, then pushed it out of my head.
"Hey, hero," said Sky, as I walked up to him in the hallway. "You all set for the photos during lunch?"
I grimaced. "They're really making much too much out of this," I said, shaking my head.
"No, they're not, man," he said, seriously. "You saved my life. I really owe you, now."
"And don't forget your grades, too," chimed in Melissa. She smiled at me, then put her arm around Sky's neck. I know she didn't mean the gesture to hurt me, but it felt like an arrow through my heart.
"Yeah," said Sky. "That, too. Thanks, Wil -- for everything."
"Right," I said, trying to sound detached. "I'll meet you at 12:30 over at the newspaper office."
By the end of the day, I'd had about enough of people whistling at me in the hallway and calling me 'the hero.' I was just glad that Ginny hadn't asked me and Sky to re- enact the 'kiss of life' I had to give him on the boat. I made it to Phys Ed, and had just started tying up my Keds when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, and it was Tim McMannis, one of the older guys from my Chorus class.
"Hey, Wil," he said, in a soft voice. Tim was what some guys would call 'wimpy,' while girls might call him 'sensitive.' I knew instinctively what he really was, and it kind of scared me. Tim was very thin, and he had an unusual face, with high cheek bones and delicate features, and his voice was high and a little effeminate. He was one of the lead tenors in Chorus, and was known for having a great sense of humor and being an all-around fun guy.
"Hi, Tim," I said, casually. "How's it goin'?"
"That was... great what you did for Sky," he said, dreamily. "I heard all about it. He's so lucky to have somebody like you."
"Yeah, well," I said, closing my clothes locker door and snapping the lock shut, "we've known each other forever, and we're kinda like brothers."
"Yeah," he said. He had that look on his face -- the kind of look I used to see on my friend Ronnie's, when he was particularly lustful. "I think you two are maybe closer than that." He giggled and smiled at me, knowingly.
Shit, I thought. Was it that obvious to other people?
I let the remark pass by. "I gotta go, Tim," I said, looking away. "Coach has got us running quarter-mile sprints today."
He nodded. "Yeah. Listen, Wil -- if you'd ever like to get together or something," he said, hopefully, "could you... ah..."
"I'm kinda busy, Tim," I interrupted, pushing past him to the doorway. "But, yeah, maybe we could do that sometime." I ran out and joined the other guys on the track.
Coach Jackson was particularly grueling today. I knew that the other PE coaches would've been a lot more lenient, but Jackson pushed us almost beyond human endurance, making us run the course all period long, and bullying the stragglers at the end of each race. Maybe it was because he was the head of the track & field department. When there were only five minutes left in the class, he finally blew his whistle.
"Okay, men! Listen up," he yelled. "One more lap around the track, and then ya can hit the showers."
"Oh, shit, not again," I muttered, perhaps a little bit too loudly.
"WHAT WAS THAT, LARSON?" he bellowed.
My face blanched. "Uh, nothing, Coach," I said, quietly, looking down at the asphalt.
Suddenly, Jackson was in my face. "I'm not deaf, Mr. Larson!" he said. "For that little remark, you get five more laps, startin' right now! And if you say one more word, you'll be runnin' 'till five o'clock! And that goes for the rest of you chicken-fats! Now move it!"
I sighed, shook my head, and glumly started trotting around the course. After ten minutes, I was completely alone on the track. Finally, I finished the last lap and staggered up to the corner of the chain-link fence, leaning against it for relief. My shirt was soaked with sweat, and my lungs felt like they were going to burst. I caught my breath, then exhaustedly trotted back down the hill over to the boys' locker room, pulling my T-shirt off over my head on the way. Only a few students were still there, and I heard the final bell ring in the distance.
"Hey, hero!" one guy called. "I heard you're gonna be in the school paper on Friday, Wil!" said another.
"Yeah, yeah," I said, non-plussed. "Read all about it."
I slipped off my gym shorts and jockstrap and grabbed my towel. Well, at least I wouldn't have any problem getting a shower stall today, I thought. I walked down the hall and through the tile doorway into the shower room, which was totally empty. I chose one of the newer faucets in the very back row, and cranked up the tap as hot as I could stand it. I lathered up and stood there for several minutes, just letting the warm water cascade over my tired muscles, as I leaned on the wall for support. It felt terrific, I thought. Maybe I really should run more. Even though I couldn't stand running, I had to admit: it felt really great once you stopped -- kind of like the old joke about hitting yourself on the head with a hammer.
Suddenly, I was dimly aware of someone else entering in the shower room and turning on a nearby faucet. I kept my back to the rest of the room, as I usually did, and pretended to ignore them, continuing to rinse off. Whoever it was, they were only about six or seven feet away from me. I shut off my tap, reached for my towel, and glanced over. There was Tim. Even without my contacts, I could see his body was pale white, skinny as a rail, and he had very little body hair. Tim was dripping wet, sporting a large erection, and was looking directly at me.
"Oh, uh..." I stammered. "Hi, Tim."
"Hi, Wil," he murmured. He reached down towards his groin and began fondling himself. "I'm really glad we could be here like this. Alone."
"Tim," I said, nervously, looking towards the door, "please, don't do this. We're gonna get caught."
"Oh, Wil," he moaned, as he began to slide his hand up and down his shaft, "I love how big you are. I've thought of this for a long time. Please... I wish you'd just let me touch you."
I stared at him. His erection was bright red, in comparison to his pallid chest and stomach. He began stroking faster, his soapy fist moving in a blur. I grabbed my towel and hurried out.
"Sorry, Tim," I called as I quickly walked by him. "I... I gotta go."
Tim began groaning louder, and I knew he was within moments of an impending orgasm. I left the shower room and hurried down the hall. Just as I reached the corner that led back to the lockers, six naked football players passed me by. Oh, shit, I thought. There's no way to warn Tim. I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer, then continued to walk over to my clothes locker. Just as I spun my combination lock open, I heard a commotion in the background.
"Holy shit!" yelled the voice. "This queer just jacked-off in the shower!" Suddenly, there was a jumble of talking and yelling, along with a lot of laughter and hoots of derision. My heart froze.
I looked up. Chuck, the assistant manager, ran out in the locker room to see what all the fuss was about. Just as our eyes met, we heard a blood-curdling scream like a girl's, off to the left. We turned just as the football players burst down the hallway, each wearing towels, and dragging with them a nude, wriggling, and soaking-wet body, who was crying and screaming at the top of his lungs.
It was Tim, who was out of his mind with shame and terror. I could see a trickle of blood coming from his nose, and his right eye was already bruised and shut.
"I'm so sorry," he moaned, "please, don't do this to me!"
"You fuckin' faggot!" yelled Ben Kingston, the biggest of the football goons. "We don't need queers like you, beatin' your meat in the shower! You belong in the trash!"
Tim's eyes looked around frantically, like a captured wild animal. He stared straight towards me. "NO!" he screamed. "Help me, please!"
With that, three of the guys hoisted Tim up on their shoulders and dragged him from the room, kicking and screaming. Chuck made a move as if to stop them, but Ben put his hand on the fat boy's chest.
"Stay where you are, Chuckles," the linebacker growled. "And if you call the Coach on us, I'll tell him about some of your little shenanigans. You know what I'm talkin' about."
I stayed close to my locker and tried to stay as invisible as I could.
"And you, Larson!" he called.
"I'm not really here," I said, looking down at the floor.
Ben smiled. "You get the idea. Thanks, Wil!" he yelled, and took off with the others.
Chuck and I looked at each other for a moment, then he slowly waddled back to his cramped little office. In the distance, I heard Tim's muffled cries. He sounded desperate, pleading for his life. Then I heard a loud metallic crash. It sounded like they'd thrown him into the Dempster Dumpster and locked him inside.
I felt a lump in my throat, but I knew there was nothing I could do. A minute later, the football players burst back through the door, laughing and congratulating each other, then walked down the hall and returned to the shower. I finished getting dressed and putting in my contacts, grabbed my gym bag and notebook, and walked towards the exit door. Chuck was looking outside his little cubicle, with a frightened look on his face.
"Chuck, I..." I started to say.
"Don't worry, Wil," he said, quietly. "I'll take Tim his clothes in a few minutes and let him out. Just go home and forget about it."
We gave each other a grim nod, and I turned to leave. Just as I got to the door, Ben walked up and put his hand on the knob to stop me. He was dripping wet, with a towel around his waist.
"Hey, Wil," he said.
"Ben."
"Listen, man," he said, looking me right in the eye. "You know how it is. We can't have fuckin' fags like that here in the school. Those guys are perverted, man. We were just takin' out the trash."
I stared at him, my heart racing. I prayed that I had the guts to just punch the shit out of him, but my hands stayed right where they were.
"Tim deserves what he gets, man," the hulking athlete continued. "Don't talk about this to nobody."
I nodded. "Yeah," I said. "Look, I, uh... I gotta get home."
"Sure, Mr. Hero!" Ben grinned and opened the door. "Thanks for savin' our center the other day, Wil. We can't afford to lose Sky -- we need him for next season!" He clapped me on the back and gave me a thumbs up.
I nodded and walked outside. Over on the far left, I could hear someone crying and banging from the inside of the dumpster. Fighting back my tears, I kept on walking and didn't stop until I made it all the way home to the safety of my room.
Tim didn't return to school the next day, or the day after that. On Friday, I stayed after my 6th period Chorus class and caught the eye of Mr. Guccino, the choir director. "Can I see you for a minute?" I asked him.
"Sure, Wil," he said, opening his door. "Come into my office."
We sat down in the crowded room, which had shelves bulging with sheets of music paper, file drawers, and a dozen award certificates, trophies, and plaques on the wall.
"What can I do for you, Wil?" he asked.
I gathered up my courage. "I, uh... I hadn't seen Tim McMannis in awhile, and I was wondering what happened to him."
The teacher's face darkened. "Tim had... an unfortunate incident the other day, Wil," he explained. "His parents asked that we release him from Tampa Central, and he's transferring over to Robinson High across town."
"Is he... is Tim okay?" I asked.
He nodded. "You wouldn't happen to know what happened, do you Wil?" he asked, suspiciously.
"No, no, I swear," I said, probably much too quickly. "I mean, Tim's sort of a friend of mind. I'd never do anything to hurt him."
Mr. Guccino eyed me. "Wil, I think it's important for you students to understand something. We've all got to live on the same planet. You jocks have to learn to be more tolerant of people who are... who're different than young men like you."
Actually, not that different from me at all, I thought.
I nodded. "I know, Mr. Guccino," I said, standing up. "Look, if you should talk to Tim, tell him... tell him we'll miss him." I was anxious to get out of the room all of a sudden. I feared if the teacher really took a good look at my face, he'd know the whole story.
"Okay, Wil," he said. "Listen, you can talk to me anytime if you ever have a problem."
I thanked him and ran down the hall to Phys Ed. For the rest of the day, I felt totally depressed and helpless. If this is what happens to guys like Tim, I thought, then there's no way that me and Sky could ever... I stopped myself, afraid to finish the thought.
The following weekend, Sky's folks invited me out for brunch at the Davis Island Marina on Sunday morning. Sky was walking on his own steam now, but he still had a little white patch on his leg where the buoy had ripped open the skin. We had a great table overlooking the harbor, and I gazed outside through the window at the myriad of sailboats and pleasure craft below.
During our meal, Sky's parents were amused that I'd insisted on ordering a cheeseburger for lunch. I just couldn't stand fish.
"Wil," said Dr. Jones, "you really should try this broiled trout. It's delicious!" Mrs. Jones nodded in agreement.
"I never could stand seafood, Dr. Jones," I said, putting another pickle on my burger. "Maybe fish-sticks or fried shrimp, but that's about it."
Mrs. Jones laughed. "Wil, you live in one of the best cities in Florida for seafood! You're missing out on some really great eating."
"Mom, Wil's just stubborn about some things," explained Sky. "He knows what he wants, and he just sticks with it."
He shot me a glance and grinned. Sky knew me too well, but I wasn't sure exactly what point he was trying to make. We finished our meal, and walked over to Sky's father's Cadillac.
"Son," said Dr. Jones, "your mother and I are going over to the club for her tennis lessons at 2PM. You and Wil can have the boat until 5:00, but make sure you're back by then. I don't want you boys out after sunset. And stay out of that water with that leg, Sky. Call me immediately if there's any problem."
"I will, Dad," he said. Thanks!"
Once again, we were out in Tampa Bay. It was windy, and the ship was a magnificent sight as it swept under the Davis Island Bridge. We were moving in a generally southwest direction. I could see the water ahead was dotted with other cabin cruisers, sailboats, and speedboats, along with one or two courageous skiers.
"Where do you wanna go today, Wil?" asked Sky, as he turned the wheel and peered through the helm window.
"Second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning," I said, grinning.
Sky gave me a quizzical look.
"To Never-Neverland, asshole!" I laughed.
Finally, I saw a spark of recognition in his eyes and he smiled. "I get it," he said, "Is that who you think you are -- Peter Pan?"
I sighed, and looked at Sky. He had taken off his shirt, and wore just a skimpy pair of denim shorts, as I did. The sun caught him from behind, and it made his shaggy blond hair almost look like it was on fire.
I walked towards him and leaned on the rail. "No, Sky," I said, quietly. "I think you're Peter Pan. I'm just one of the Lost Boys."
He rolled his eyes and laughed. "You read too much of that fantasy shit," he said, locking off the wheel and jumping down to the deck.
"Hey," I said, following him. "Don't knock fantasy unless you've tried it."
Suddenly, a wave came up and the boat tipped sharply to port. I tripped and started to fall, and Sky caught me in his arms. He pulled me back to my feet, and I noticed his hands were shaking.
"Thanks, man," I said. "Jesus, I could've fallen right on my stupid face."
"Yeah," he muttered. "I gotta go downstairs and check the map." He seemed bothered by something, but I let it pass. Probably still thinking about Melissa again.
An hour later, we'd made it out of Old Tampa Bay, but Sky was puzzled.
"I don't get it," he said, angrily. "I know how to read this fuckin' map, but it says we should be at Ross Island by now. We passed Gandy Bridge fifteen minutes ago."
"Let me see the map," I said. "Maybe I can figure it out."
"Who the fuck is the captain here?" he snapped. "You don't know anything about this shit!"
I was a little stunned. "Sky, I'm not saying I know any more than you," I replied quietly. "I'm just trying to help, man."
"You can help by shutting the fuck up!" he said. "I'll find this goddamned place, even if I have to call the Coast Guard."
He climbed the ladder up to the helm and angrily spun the steering wheel back around and gunned the engine. The winds had died by now, and the currents were pretty still.
I got up and eased my way down the starboard side of the ship, leaning on the railing as I walked down the narrow ledge all the way out to the bow. I held on and looked out. The land looked a long way away, at least five miles, I thought. Maybe his compass was screwed-up or something.
A couple of minutes later, the boat took a sudden lurch, then veered sharply to the left. I nearly slipped, but grabbed hold of the railing to steady myself. "Hey!" I yelled. "What're you doing?"
Suddenly, we stopped dead in the water, the engine died, and I fell to the deck.
"FUCK!" Sky screamed from the back of the ship. "Now we're fuckin' grounded!"
I picked myself up and trotted back over the ledge to the tower. Sky's face was filled with rage. He pounded the steering wheel over and over.
"FUCK!" he yelled again. "The goddamned map said the sand bar was at least 700 feet over there!"
We seemed to be locked tight. "You want me to get out and push?" I asked, trying to make a joke.
"The boat weighs sixteen tons, you fuckin' idiot!" he yelled.
This just wasn't like him, I thought. I slowly climbed up the steps to the helm. "Sky," I said, gently. "Don't go nuts. It's not a big deal, it's just low tide. We'll just wait for high tide to come in, and we'll float free."
He jumped down away from me onto the rear deck. Sky was practically shaking with anger. "This is all my fault!" he wailed. "I never should've come out here today. I don't even know why I'm here!"
Suddenly, he burst into tears. "Get away from me, Wil," he said, running down the steps to the lower cabin.
I was flabbergasted. What the hell was going on here? I heard him sobbing down below. This couldn't be about me, I thought. He's just freaked-out that his father would take away his boat privileges or something. Slowly, I went down the wooden steps to the cabin below. Sky was lying on his stomach over on the fold-out cot, crying his eyes out. Jesus, I thought. Maybe it's the pain-killers he's been taking for his leg or something.
I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed and put my hand on his shoulder. "Hey, " I said, soothingly. "Don't worry. Your father won't get mad. I swear, it's not a big deal."
After a few moments, he stopped crying and turned to me. "No. I don't care about that. I'm just... still really sorry for what I did to you. I was such an asshole."
I thought for a moment. "Today?"
He shook his head. "You know what I mean," he said, quietly.
Oh, shit. "Sky, I told you, that's all forgotten," I said. "I already apologized, you apologized -- that was almost four months ago! It's over with."
"Wil," he said, slowly sitting up and wiping his face. "I've... I've thought about you a lot ever since it happened. I dunno, it's like... whenever I'm down, if I just think of you for a moment, I feel better."
I smiled. "Yeah," I said, quietly. "I guess that's what friends are for."
Sky reached out his hand and touched my shoulder. "You've done so much for me. It took me this long to realize how much you lo..." He choked on the word. "...you... lov..." He was shaking, and tears began streaming down his face again.
"Shut up," I said, as I leaned forward and kissed him. This time, he didn't push me away. We held the kiss for a good thirty seconds. I felt his breath on my face, smelled his body, the scent of the ocean in his hair. He put his hand on my chest and gently squeezed me, and I moaned.
"Fuck, Wil," he said at last, as our lips finally parted.
I laughed. "Well, we could do that if you really wanted to," I said, "but a blow job would probably be a lot easier."
Sky grinned, then wiped some of the tears off his face. "How long would you guess we're gonna be stuck here?" he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders and grinned. "I hope at least 20 minutes."
"Make it half an hour," he said.
We tugged off our shorts and let our erections spring free. "God, Wil," he said, breathlessly, kissing my chest, then my stomach. "I've thought about you every night for the last three weeks, man."
I caressed the back of his head. "Sky, you could've told me sooner," I said.
He hesitated, then stepped off the bed onto the floor, and reached for my groin. My arousal throbbed in his hands, as if it was a fresh catch he'd just snatched out of the ocean.
I moaned. "You don't have to do this, Sky," I whispered, leaning forward. "I'll do it for you, like... like before."
He shook his head. "I know this is the point of no return," he said, trembling as he inched me closer to his lips. "But I don't care anymore. All I want is for you to be happy."
I felt a sudden warmth envelop me, and I fell back to the bed with a groan. "Oh, GOD," I croaked.
For his first time, Sky was an expert. I only had to tell him once to watch the teeth. He was no Ronnie, but he did the best he could.
I was filled with such passion, I couldn't hold back more than a minute. Sweat trickled down from my arms and chest, I panted, and my heart pounded like thunder.
"Sky!" I whispered, almost delirious. "This is it."
He took his mouth off me and gently stroked me with both hands. I exploded all over the walls, the porthole, and a glob even hit the low ceiling, right next to the interior light. After a moment to catch my breath, I pulled him to me and kissed him again, roughly, our tongues intermingling.
"How was I?" he whispered.
I nodded. "Very good," I wheezed. "Unbelievable, as a matter of fact."
"I'll have to kinda... work my way into swallowing," he said, embarrassedly.
I grinned and caught my breath. "Yeah. It's kind of an acquired taste."
We both laughed.
"So was I okay?" he asked.
"Better than okay," I said, sighing.
"But not as good as Ronnie, right?"
I blanched. "How did you..." I started.
Sky rolled his eyes and laughed. "Come on, man," he said. "It's ME. I know the two Lannigan fags were doin' stuff for you."
I stiffened. "Don't call 'em that, asshole," I said, icily.
Sky nodded, immediately apologetic. "I guess I'm a cocksucker now, too, right?" He smiled weakly. "Does that make me a fag?"
I thought about what RJ had told me before New Year's. "Maybe labels are wrong, Sky," I said. "Maybe stuff like 'heterosexual' and 'homosexual' doesn't really cover all the shades of gray."
"So, you're saying maybe I'm only 2% fag," he grinned. "Like 2% skim milk."
I pulled him close and kissed him again. "You know what I think, Sky?" I said. "I think under the right circumstances, anybody can have sex with anybody."
Sky thought for a minute. "How 'bout with Chuck?" We both laughed.
"Actually," I said, "the idea's not that impossible. You know about Scott Michaels?"
"You mean about the time he tried to, uh... do it to you in the gym?"
I nodded. "I never told you the rest of the story."
I gave him the gory details, up to and including how Scott's stepfather had been boning him for years.
Sky sat on the edge of the cot. "Holy shit," he whispered. "Nobody else knows about this. Now I understand why you didn't want me and the guys to beat him up."
I nodded. "I think Scott's another guy who's not 100% one way or the other. Even if he's 60/40, who cares? That's his business."
Sky looked at me. "What about you, Wil? You're not... 100% one way or the other."
I smiled and pulled him closer and kissed him again. "I know 100% of me has loved you all my life. Let me show you."
I pushed him back on the bed and kissed his neck, while my hands moved downwards to his groin. I deliberately avoided touching his arousal; instead, I gently massaged his thighs and then moved to his balls, lightly squeezing them and rolling them around in my fingers. I let my tongue move further down, licking in the deep ridge between his pectoral muscles, then traced the outline of his chest. I suckled his left nipple and pulled it up with my mouth, then gently bit it with my front teeth and tickled the hairs. He moaned with delight.
I let my tongue continue across to his underarm, and carefully licked the entire area, tasting his sweet sweat through the thatch of blond hair. I held his strong arm in my hand and kissed it, then ran my lips along the bulging veins and muscles. I returned to his face and inhaled his tongue, and he moaned again. I moved my mouth back to his chest and slowly licked downwards as I slid off the bed and onto the hardwood floor. Finally on my knees, I leaned up and let my tongue circle his belly-button, lightly flicking through the thickening blond thatch of hairs on his stomach. I reached up with my left hand and grabbed his iron-hard erection, which felt hot to the touch. It throbbed in my hand.
"Oh, god, Wil," he begged, "oh, please, please suck me!"
I continued drawing it out as long as I could, letting my tongue lap softly on top of the underside of his arousal, then circled the head and lightly tickled the top side. I lapped in the ridge just under his head, exploring every line and indentation I could find. I continued for almost a minute, then went even lower, kissing his sac and inhaling his jewels into my mouth, one at a time. I went below his balls to a soft, light blond thatch of hairs circling a light red puckering bud. "Here goes nothing," I thought. I plunged forward and darted my tongue inside as deeply as I could. It was clean, and tasted a little salty and sweet, just like the rest of him.
He began to thrust and moan uncontrollably.
"Wil..." his voice was a whisper now, "please... I-I... beg you..."
When I knew he couldn't stand it any longer, I worked my hands back up his chest and massaged his pecs, lightly tweaking his nipples and gently stroking his body. I took his engorged cock deep in my mouth in two gulps, letting it tickle the back of my throat. He cried out as I gently sucked and pulled on it. In less than 30 seconds, it was over.
Sky lay on his back, his muscular chest heaving and sweating. I fell beside him on the cot, and he turned his head and gently kissed me.
"Ga-ROSS!" he sputtered, laughing.
"What?" I said.
"That's the first time I've tasted my... my... you know." He made a wry face.
I looked at him. There was a little white glob on the right corner of his mouth, and he was turning bright red! I laughed and wiped my face and his. "Yeah. I guess things get messy sometimes."
He grinned at me. "I don't mind," he said. "As long as it's you."
"Okay," I laughed. "Next time, you swallow."
"You're assuming I can get that thing in again!" he laughed. "I could barely fit a third of it into my mouth as it was."
I was just about to tell him he could call Ronnie in Texas and ask him for tips on his technique when a loud air horn sounded.
"AHOY!" yelled a voice from a loudspeaker outside. "Ahoy, ship in distress! This is the U.S. Coast Guard!"
"OH, SHIT!" we both yelled, as we frantically yanked on our shorts and ran back up the steps.
It turned out we were about 7 miles off course. Apparently, Sky had misread the compass just enough that we'd missed a crucial turn in a waterway. The Coast Guard guys were nice enough to call Sky's folks and tell them we were going to be about an hour late, but not to worry.
It was 5:30 by the time we were back on the way back to the Marina. Sky and I stood side by side up on the top deck. He had one hand on the steering wheel and the other around my shoulders.
"I can't get over how good this feels," he sighed.
I nodded.
Sky looked at me. "I guess this means we're gay," he said. "I swear, Wil, I've never been turned on by a guy in my life. I mean, I might've occasionally looked at some of the guys in the shower, just to check 'em out or somethin', but I mean, it doesn't affect me at all."
I reached over and put my hand on top of his on the steering wheel. He grinned at me.
"But with you," he sighed. "I dunno. It's like... It doesn't matter to me that you're a guy anymore. I guess I... shit."
Sky turned to me. He was shaking slightly. "I love you, Wil," he said, softly.
"Me, too," I said. I kissed him, and he kissed me back.
He turned and looked through the window. "So we're a couple of fags, I guess," he said, quietly.
"Look," I said. "I read an article in Playboy a few months ago. It said that sex doesn't necessarily have to be an 'either/or' proposition. Maybe it's okay to have sex with anybody you want."
"I thought all you read was Scientific American," he said, laughing.
"Hey," I said. "Who says you can't love me and Melissa both? Maybe you get something different from each of us."
His expression changed. "Me and Melissa have been havin' a lotta fights lately," he explained. "I used to think I loved her, but I dunno. It's... it's been different lately."
I stared out into the surf and watched the waves crash by a nearby bridge. "I think you should keep seeing her," I said, quietly.
"For what?" he asked. "So we can fight some more? So she can refuse to do anything for me because 'it's against the Bible.'" He made a face as he sarcastically imitated her voice.
A plan was beginning to form in my head. "Listen, Sky," I said, quietly. "We gotta be careful at school, you know? If you suddenly stop seeing Melissa and just start hanging out with me, it could be... well, it could look bad. That's the kind of shit that gets people beat up."
"Yeah," he said. "I heard about that guy in the shower at school the other day. 'Tim the Fag,' right?"
I shuddered at the memory, and again cursed myself for not being able to stop it. "Something like that," I muttered.
"So you're sayin' you'll keep goin' out with Ginny, and I'll go out with Melissa, and..."
"...and we can still see each other on weekends," I finished for him.
He grinned and nuzzled my ear. "I think that'll work," he whispered.
It had better, I thought, as he kissed my neck, passionately.
"Shit, Sky, WATCH OUT!" I yelled.
We were headed right towards a giant concrete pylon supporting the middle section of the Gandy Bridge.
"FUCK! Hard a-port!" he yelled, and spun the wheel to one side while throttling back on one of the controls.
We missed it by inches. As we slowly went under the bridge, I could see all kinds of weird barnacles and bits of sea life crawling over the concrete post's smooth gray surface. Somebody had scrawled "Jimmy Loves Mary-Anne" in black paint on the post's left side. Just as we had almost cleared the bridge, I felt a small thud from the back of the boat.
"You hold it steady, Wil," he called out, jumping off the helm to run to the back. "I gotta go check and see if we cracked the aft hull."
"Aye-aye, sir," I saluted.
We were real lucky. The tail end of the ship had barely grazed the post, but it didn't seem to do much damage. Sky said he'd tell his father it must've happened when we ran aground.
As we pulled into the Marina, I mulled over our adventures of the past week. That was two incidents 'over water.' Pete had never said there'd be more than one. I shook my head and decided he didn't know what he was talking about. Nobody could know the future, I thought. That's totally illogical.
Sky expertly pulled the boat up to the dock, then looked down and put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze. I looked back up and put my hand on his hand and grinned. I was happier than I'd been in my entire life.
Chapter 20
Four ninety-seven, four ninety-eight, four ninety-nine, five hundred! Holy shit, Sky -- you did it!"
I clapped my friend on the back. It was a late afternoon, in early May. We were in the school workout room, and Sky and I had just finished an incredible regime of sit-up exercises. He fell back on the bench, exhausted. I gazed over at him. Sky was shirtless, and his chest and stomach were etched with veins and muscles, like some kind of impossibly-idealized sculpture from ancient Greece.
"Lemme help you up, man," I said, putting my hand under his neck and pulling him up. Sky groaned.
"Christ, my gut hurts," he moaned. "Let's check it out."
We walked over to the wall-sized mirror, and he turned to let the light from the one lone window in the room illuminate his body. Sky looked incredible. A thin sheen of sweat made every muscle in his body glisten and shine.
"Holy shit," I murmured. I immediately felt my groin begin to throb and stiffen. I prayed that my jockstrap would keep it tamed, and I surreptitiously reached down and adjusted my gym shorts.
"Wow!" Sky exclaimed, looking at his reflection. "Hey guys -- check this out!"
Some of the other football players came over. "Hey," said Duane, one of the fullbacks. "Man, lookit those abs -- you got an 8-pack!"
I looked down. They were right. Sky's abdominal muscles had always been impressive, but now, I could see an additional row starting just above his waist. He ran his fingers through the ridges, and I felt my heart pound as I stared at the beads of sweat on his skin.
Sky leaned over to me and whispered, "down boy!" He smiled.
I grinned back at him. After our encounter on the boat last week, there were no more secrets between us. He knew I was completely infatuated with him. I was glad I didn't have to hide how I felt anymore, and even gladder that he'd admitted he had the same affection for me.
"Not bad, Jones," said a voice behind us.
We turned around and I was momentarily taken aback. It was Scott Michaels and one of his cronies from the football team. Our eyes met, and I felt a flash of anger. I hadn't forgotten what he'd tried to do to me right before Christmas, in this very room.
"Hey, Wil," he said, nodding. "You're lookin' good, too, man. If you get any more pumped-up, we're gonna have to put you on the football team." He smiled at me, only this time, I could see he really meant it.
I nodded back. "Hey, Scott," I said. "How's the arm?"
He pulled it up and made a muscle, then winced. "It's not a hundred percent healed, but it's gettin' there," he replied. "I'm still goin' through therapy. The doc says I should be able to get back to football in August."
Sky eyed him suspiciously. "Take it easy, Scott," he said icily, glancing at my reaction.
"Yeah," the teenage quarterback replied. "See you guys around."
After Scott left, Sky turned back to me. "That fuckin' asshole," he muttered. "I could kill him."
Yeah, you and Ronnie Lannigan, I thought. Jesus -- Ronnie. I hadn't heard from the Lannigan brothers in months, even though I'd sent them two letters already. I made an effort to keep my correspondence kind of vague and 'sanitized,' just in case somebody from his family read them, but I still wondered what the little guy was up to, back on his uncle's ranch in Dallas.
"Let it go, Sky," I said, quietly. "We done here?"
He nodded. "Hey," he said, grinning. "Don't forget, it's my 16th birthday tomorrow. I hope you got me somethin' good."
I laughed. "Is your dad gonna get you the GTO?"
"He'd damn well better," he replied. "I've only been droppin' hints since like January! I made sure I left a brochure on his car seat last week. I figure he couldn't ignore that."
Man, I thought. That'd be the coolest car in the world, even if it cost a mint. Sky's family had money, since his father was a prominent eye doctor, but I didn't have the slightest bit of jealousy towards them. I think they were just so grateful he was alive, after his close call in the skiing accident last month, they'd give their son just about anything he wanted.
"Let's hit the showers," I said.
"Sure you don't wanna have a whirlpool bath instead?" Sky replied, wiggling his eyebrows.
My heart pounded. I'd love to do it with him now, but it was just too risky at school.
"No, man," I whispered, glancing around to see if the other jacks were watching. "Keep it in your pants until later."
"I see you're havin' problems with that already," he giggled, pointing down.
I looked and was mortified to see a little pink tip peeking out of the bottom edge of my gym shorts. Damned jockstrap, I thought, as I reached down to adjust myself.
"If ya ask me, I think 'little Wil' is growin', along with the rest of you," he whispered.
I rolled my eyes and punched him in the shoulder as we walked back to the locker room.
Sky's prediction about his birthday gift proved accurate. When we got home to Sky's place on Friday after school, there in the driveway was a brand spanking-new 1969 burgundy Pontiac GTO convertible, complete with a white top, 400cc engine, Hurst dual-gate shifter, and Turbo hydra-matic transmission. A large white bow was wrapped around the front hood. Sky's parents and sister stood to the side and beamed.
"HOLY SHIT!" he screamed, when we saw it in the driveway.
"Now, Schuyler!" chided his mom. "Your father and I have told you not to use language like that."
"Sorry, mom," he said. "HOLY CRAP!"
She shook her head and laughed. We ran up to the car and Sky yanked open the driver's side door and hopped in.
"This thing is incredible!" he gushed. "It'll probably do 150, easy! There's 365 horses under the hood. This thing's gonna SCREAM!"
"So will your folks, if you get any speeding tickets," I retorted, from the passenger's side.
"Now, now, Sky," said Dr. Jones, walking up to the side. "Remember, we've got to go down and get your driver's license before you can legally drive this thing. Your appointment's in half an hour, so let's leave now and get this over with."
Sky grinned and nodded, then turned to me.
"Happy birthday, man," I said. I reached in the glove compartment and took out a little package.
He ripped it open.
"Too cool!" he said. "A custom shift lever! Shit, Wil -- you mean you knew about this all along? You DOG!"
I laughed. His sister Carol had let me in on it about a week ago, and I was able to get one of these for $20 from one of the local Western Auto stores.
"The creestal ball knows all, tells all!" I said, in a creepy voice. "Eeet knew zis car was een your future!"
We laughed. Sky reached down and squeezed my hand on the console, then leaned forward as if to kiss me. He stopped when he saw the terrified expression on my face.
"You boys ready to go?" said Dr. Jones, from outside of the car.
Sky turned around and nodded. "Y-yeah, Dad. You drive, and Wil can sit in the back."
Shit, I thought. Sky's gotta be more careful about that stuff.
"Here it is, Wil!" Sky said, holding the little pink square of cardboard in his hand. " Check it out! I'm totally legal!"
At last, he had every 16 year-old male's dream: a valid driver's license and a totally bitchin' car. If that isn't a recipe for fun, I thought, then nothing is.
"Now, Schuyler," cautioned Dr. Jones, "don't forget -- you've got a lot of responsibilities now. Driving isn't a right, it's a privilege."
Sky nodded. "I know, Dad," he said. "I'll be careful." He glanced over to me and I saw a twinkle in his eye.
Uh-oh, I thought. I know what that look means.
That night, the party at Sky's house was pretty wild. The music was cranked to the max; The Beatles' "Get Back" pounded out of the living room speakers at top volume. A bunch of our friends from school were there, crowded into the living room and den, and even spilling out to the backyard. Sky's mother and sister had their hands full, trying to stop people from spilling cokes all over their furniture. Melissa came by, too, but I could see things were still a little cool between her and Sky. They walked outside to the patio.
I stood there watching them, drinking a Dr. Pepper, when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Hey, you!" yelled Ginny, trying to be heard over the music.
I grinned. "Hi, Ginny! Hey, great party, huh?"
She nodded. "You gonna go to the prom next month?"
"WHAT?" I shouted. I couldn't hear a thing with the music blasting so loud.
"LET'S GO OUTSIDE!" she yelled, and dragged me by the arm out to the patio.
Sky and Melissa were sitting on the low brick wall that circled their backyard flower bed. We walked over to join them.
"Happy birthday, Sky," said Ginny. "Hey, you look great tonight, Melissa!"
I had to admit, she did. Melissa had on a low-cut blue dress that showed off every curve she had. Definitely hot - - but she paled next to how I felt about Sky.
"Listen you guys," said Sky, quietly. "Since the four of us are here together, I got somethin' to say. It's about me and Wil."
I looked at him and felt a wave of panic surge through my body. No, I thought. Not here, not now!
"You know, he and I've been friends for like forever," he began. "Anyway, somethin' happened recently, and... Melissa, I got somethin' to tell you."
"How about the four of us go together to the prom next month?" I said, interrupting. The three of them looked up at me.
"That was the surprise, right, Sky?" I continued, glaring at him. "Now that he's got a car, he thought maybe we could all go in the GTO. It'll be cool."
"That's a great idea, Wil," said Ginny. "They're having the prom this year over at the Clearwater Marriott, right on the beach. My aunt's apartment is only a block away, and I was going to stay there over the weekend anyway."
Sky shot me a look. Melissa leaned over and kissed him.
"That's wonderful, Sky," she said, giving him a hug. "Listen, I know we've kinda had some problems lately, but maybe we can still have a good time at the dance."
"So it's a date then!" I said, a little too enthusiastically. "Just the four of us."
Ginny leaned over and gave me a little peck. "I thought you'd never ask," she whispered, then giggled.
After the party, Sky and I helped his mom and sister clean up the living room and empty out the trashcans. After they left the room, he turned to me and glared, but didn't say a word.
My heart sank. "Sky," I said, quietly, "don't screw this up."
"I don't care who knows," he snapped. "Fuck 'em. I'm 16 now, and I can do what I want."
I sighed. "It's not that simple, Sky," I said. "We still have three years of school to go. These are people we gotta see in class every single day. Trust me -- the world isn't ready for two guys to go to the prom yet."
I sat down on the couch and told him what had happened to Pete when he was at Clearwater High, but left his name out.
Sky slowly nodded, obviously affected by the story. "Shit," he said, sitting down next to me. "I guess maybe I was tryin' to rush into this too fast."
"Listen," I said. "Maybe someday kids can kiss in public and have sex with anybody they want, and nobody will care. But not now."
He looked up and grinned at me. "But it's my birthday," he said, quietly. "I want you to come with me."
Sky put his arm around my shoulder and led me out the front door. "Hey, Mom!" he yelled. " I'm takin' Wil for a spin. I'll be back in an hour, okay?"
The GTO was great, just cool beyond belief. Sky maneuvered it like an expert, and the engine rumbled down the streets and over the Davis Island bridge, until we had crossed through the city and made it out to the Marina. He parked the car a block away from the main entrance, then turned to me.
"I want one more gift from you, Wil," he said, quietly, touching my shoulder.
I nodded. "In the boat, right?"
"Yeah."
We walked down to the Marina entrance, which was dark except for two or three security lights. Sky flashed his authorization card to the night watchman, who nodded and unlocked the gate that led down the passageway by the dock where his dad's boat was moored. We walked over the pier, hopped down to the deck, then Sky unlocked the door and we cautiously stepped down the stairs to the dark cabin below. He clicked on the electric light, which cast a dim yellow light over the room, then he quietly closed the door and locked it.
We stared at each other for a moment. I don't think Sky ever looked more handsome than he did at that exact moment: his eyes sparkled in the amber light, his mouth was slightly open, and he smiled at me. He began unbuttoning his shirt. I did the same. He took a step forward and held his arms out to me. I reached out and we embraced, then I kissed him, first on the neck, then hard, on the mouth. We sank down together on the floor, and began frantically ripping off our pants.
In seconds, we were completely naked. Sky covered my body with kisses, and I began to moan with desire.
"Oh, fuck, man," I panted. "I've never been so horny in my entire life."
Sky nodded. "I wanna... try somethin' different," he said.
I knew what he meant. I stood up and walked over to the bed, then sat down. I was shaking, partly with fear, and partly with excitement.
Sky sat beside me, and held out a little jar of vaseline. "I've got this," he said. "It's supposed to make it go easier."
I nodded and lay on my back, opening my legs slightly as he stood in front of me on the floor. He stood up and massaged me down low, between my legs, and I moaned. He kept it up for a minute or two, and was eventually able to work in a couple of fingers. Unlike my previous experience with Scott, this time it felt warm, and while there was a little pain, it was tinged with excitement and... something else.
"You ready?" he whispered.
"Yeah," I whispered back. "Just... go real slow. Okay?" I reached down and pulled my heavy balls up and out of the way.
He nodded and leaned in to enter me. I felt a warm object push against me. After a moment's hesitation, suddenly, he was partially inside.
The pain was excruciating. I sucked in my breath and groaned. "God, it hurts, man," I gasped, gritting my teeth. "Give me a second."
For a fleeting moment, I remembered what happened with Cynthia when we were together a few months earlier. Now I kinda knew how she felt, I thought. I was actually grateful that Sky's dick was a little smaller than average.
Sky leaned down and kissed me. I felt my groin throb in response. I was as hard as steel.
After a moment, our lips separated. "Okay," I sighed. "Go a little deeper."
He gave a little shove, and suddenly, he was completely inside me. I groaned again, and felt his hairs tickle the insides of my smooth thighs.
"Are you okay?" he whispered.
"Oh, god," I moaned. "It actually feels... almost good. Just keep going slow."
Sky panted. "This..." he wheezed, "...this won't take long, Wil."
My endowment was completely engorged, and I pushed it straight up, towards his chest. Sky's eyes were filled with lust as he began his thrusts. He leaned over and felt my stiff cock as it rubbed the sweat-soaked indentation between his muscular pecs, and he looked down and grinned at me.
"Let me do somethin' for you, too, Wil," he whispered. He leaned over and took me in his mouth. I was long enough that he could just barely get my head past his lips.
I moaned with pleasure. The feeling was unbelievable. Sky's thrusts gradually became faster, more rhythmic. With every movement, his tongue lapped gently over my glans. I could feel his balls slap against my backside. He reached forward and put one hand on my chest which was moist with sweat, and began stroking my arousal with the other. He kept up the pace for a minute, until we were both panting and moaning.
"Oh god, Sky!" I cried. I felt the beginnings of a climax like I'd never felt before. Seconds later, I exploded in his mouth, and my pleasure felt like it was ricocheting back and forth between my penis and somewhere deep within me. Suddenly, he doubled his thrusts, groaned loudly, and I felt a warm, wet sensation inside me. My erection slipped from his mouth as he fell on my stomach, exhausted.
We lay together for a few seconds, completely exhausted. I kissed him, then smacked my lips.
"Hey!" I said, panting. "You swallowed this time!"
He opened his eyes, then grinned and nodded. "Yeah," he said, trying to catch his breath. "God, Wil. That was fuckin' incredible."
"Happy birthday, Sky," I whispered. We kissed again and lay together for half an hour, not saying a word.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Sky asked, as we rode in his GTO on the way to my house.
I sighed, then nodded. "Yeah. It was... different than I expected."
He looked at me quizzically. "Different? How?"
"I'll tell you what, babe," I said, grinning. "I'll fuck you next time in the boat, and then you'll know what I mean."
He laughed so hard, he almost drove off the road. "You'd kill me with that thing!" he cried.
"You never know until you try it," I said, grinning. "What's good for the goose is good for the gander."
We stopped at a red light on Kennedy Boulevard and Sky turned and kissed me.
"Don't do that, asshole!" I hissed. "Somebody could see us!"
"I told you, I don't care," he said, simply. "I love you, Wil."
"I love you too, man," I said, wearily, "but please, can we be careful about this shit?"
"Okay," he laughed. "I'll make a deal with you: I'll try to keep my hands off you except in our bedrooms or on the boat."
"Or when it's totally safe," I said. "Just be cool about it, alright?"
He nodded. The light changed, and we made the turn down El Prado and drove the four blocks to my house. Sky pulled up in our driveway and I hopped out. I glanced down at the car, which gleamed brightly in the light of the moon. Jesus Christ, this thing looked cool.
"You're real lucky, man," I said, as I walked around to the driver's side.
"You're tellin' me," he said, grinning. "I got my license, and a GTO, and lost my virginity... all in the same day."
I was momentarily stunned. "You mean you've... never..."
Sky shook his head. "You're it for me, Wil," he said. "I got one hand job from that bitch Cathy last year, but nothin' from Melissa." He reached out and pulled me closer to the car window.
"Not here!" I hissed, looking over my shoulder to see if my parents were watching through the window.
"Next time, then," he said, grinning and licking his lips. "And maybe it'll be your turn to... you know."
I ran up the steps. "Then you'd better start practicing!" I yelled back.
He gunned the engine and thundered back down the driveway and out to the street.
Over the next few weeks, our game plan worked perfectly. We double-dated with Melissa and Ginny several times a week. Then, after we dropped them off, we'd find a place to go and get off with each other. We usually wound up going to Sky's bedroom, since his parents gave him a lot more privacy than mine did. We tried it a couple of times in my house, and even once in the shower when nobody was home, but it always felt safest to me at the boat. One night, we both got so horny, we pulled off Bayshore Boulevard in a dark alley surrounded by a hedge, and did it in the back seat of his GTO at about 1AM. That was exciting, but very risky.
Melissa seemed relieved that Sky had suddenly stopped pressuring her to have sex. I told him to tell her that he'd decided they should both save themselves for marriage, and he later told me she'd bought the explanation, hook, line and sinker.
By the end of May, I thought Ginny might be getting a little suspicious. "You two seem to be in an awfully big hurry to get out of here," she said, as we were walking from the theater, after seeing the new sci-fi film Journey to the Far Side of the Sun.
Sky shot me a glance.
"Uh, we just have to get back to studying for final exams," I said, looking straight ahead.
"Yeah," repeated Sky. "We gotta study."
We dropped the girls off, and I walked Ginny up to her door. Sky stared at us through the car window.
"I had a great time, Wil," she said, quietly.
"Me, too, Ginny." I said, putting my arms around her. I glanced over her shoulder back at the car, and decided I'd have a little fun with Sky.
"I'm really looking forward to the prom next week," she whispered.
"Uh-hmmm," I said. I pulled her to me and kissed her, passionately. At first, she pulled back slightly, then she wrapped her arms around me and leaned into me. Holy shit, I thought. I think that was a little tongue!
We broke off our embrace. Ginny looked a little dazed.
"So, ah, g'night, Ginny!" I said, skipping down the steps.
"Good... goodnight, Wil!" she said, standing by the door.
I jumped in the car and slammed the door. "Okay, let's go, Sky," I said.
Sky was fuming. "What the fuck was that all about?" he muttered.
I grinned. "Oh, nothing," I said, looking away. "Just saying goodnight to Ginny."
"You gonna slip her the big ten-inch?" he snapped.
"C'mon, Sky," I said, grinning. "Now you know how I felt sometimes with you and Melissa."
He looked at me for a moment, then sighed. "Shit," he said, shaking his head. "Jesus, I never understood until now."
"Shut up," I grinned, and leaned forward and kissed him.
Sky stiffened and looked over my shoulder. I pulled away and turned around. It was Ginny, still staring at us through the screen door of her house.
"Oh, shit!" he said, gunning the engine and tearing off down the street, burning rubber. "I think she saw us!"
Fuck, I thought. No -- it was too dark. There's no way she could've seen anything.
"Take it easy, Sky," I said. "Let's just go to the boat and relax, okay?"
After a few seconds, he finally slowed down and stopped at the next block.
"I'm sorry, Wil," he said, looking down. "I... I just overreacted."
"Just stay calm, man," I said, quietly. "Don't forget -- we still gotta get through the prom."
The last ten days of school flew by quickly. Sky and I studied together every night for the final exams. It was all we could do to keep our hands off each other, but somehow, we managed. I told him if we avoided doing anything that week, we could have an all-nighter at the boat, after the prom. He agreed that that was a good plan, but warned me that we'd probably go so nuts, we'd tip the ship over.
The last day of school was Friday, June 6th. I let out a whoop when they handed out the report cards: I had pulled a hat trick, and managed to hit straight-A's again, for the second quarter in a row. I even managed to pull an extra credit in Chorus, after participating in a couple of charity concerts and recitals that Mr. Guccino had asked us to volunteer for.
Sky saw me in the hallway after 6th period and ran up to me, excitedly. "Look at this, man!" he yelled, waving his report card. "Call me Mr. Honor Roll!"
"Holy shit, Sky!" I cried. "That's absolutely unbelievable!"
He reached out and hugged me. I immediately pulled away from him, and his face fell.
"I was just happy about my grades, man," he muttered, looking away.
I looked up at him and nodded. "I'm sorry, babe," I whispered. "Later, okay?"
Just then, I heard a couple of voices calling our names. We turned and Melissa and Ginny ran up beside us.
"Goddamn it," said Melissa. "A 'C' in Geometry. That bastard Mr. Rebert hates me. That's the only reason why he did it."
Ginny put her hand on my shoulder. "How'd you do, Wil?"
"Oh," I said, casually, "the same-o, same-o."
Ginny laughed. "Not again!"
I nodded. "And get this," I said, laughing. "Dip-shit over there made the Honor Roll!"
"Wow!" said Ginny. "I guess all the studying you two have been doing together lately really did some good." She smiled, but it was a strange kind of smile.
Sky and I glanced at each other. I turned to Ginny and nodded.
"Yeah. Anyway," I said, trying to change the subject, "so we're gonna pick you two up tomorrow night at 7:00, right?"
The girls nodded, then the bell rang. Melissa kissed Sky on the cheek, then grabbed Ginny and took off down the hall. "'Bye you guys!" she called.
We stared at them as they ran off.
"Whaddya think that was all about?" asked Sky, quietly.
Fuck, I thought. Ginny was no dummy, and she was a journalism student besides. If she knew how to get to the bottom of a story, then she definitely might be able to figure out what was going on with me and Sky. And if she saw us in the car last week...
I decided not to think about it. "Don't worry about it, man," I said. "We just have one more class, and then it's time for..."
"SUMMER!" yelled Sky, as he threw his notebook up in the air. All the papers scattered and blew down the corridor, and floated over the grassy hill and down to the stone steps in front of the school.
Chapter 21
The Clearwater Marriott was a lavish ten-story hotel, with a sparkling white and gray marble facade, and an ornate entrance way out front. The sun had set almost an hour ago, and it was very warm, though a cool breeze blew in from the Gulf. Cars lined up around the block, as teenage couples wearing ill-fitting rented tuxedoes and fancy dresses stepped out onto the curb.
"Where the fuck am I gonna park?" wailed Sky, frustrated with the never-ending traffic jam ahead of us.
"I know the area," said Ginny, who sat next to me in the back seat of Sky's GTO. "Pull over there," she said, pointing to an empty parking lot a block down the street. "That's for the City Pier, but you can still use it at night."
"Good idea!" I said.
Sky slammed the car in reverse and peeled out, and in two minutes we were walking up the sidewalk to the hotel.
"Man, this is a great building," I said, tugging at my shirt collar, which was strangling me. "How could they possibly construct a hotel this tall on the beach, without it sinking into the sand?"
"Simple," said Ginny, as she slipped her hand around my waist. "They use pile-drivers to put dozens of long concrete slabs into the ground, then they reinforce them to make the foundation. The building actually sits on top of those concrete posts, not the sand."
I glanced over at her and smiled. "How the heck do you know so much about this stuff?" I laughed.
"Well, Mr. Genius," she said, smiling. "You're not the only one who reads books and does research. And besides -- my father's an architect. He told me about this place when they were building it last year."
I laughed and glanced over at Sky. He and Melissa weren't talking much. I crossed my fingers that the night would go okay.
The band inside the banquet room was fairly polished. Somebody told me they were some hot local group from Miami, which I didn't doubt. They were a lot better than Pete's little combo, that's for sure.
Shit -- Pete. I hadn't thought about him in weeks. I should've called him. What was that he said the last time I saw him? He said he'd wait for me -- 'when I was ready, and the karma's right.' What the fuck did that mean?
"Here's your drink!" said Ginny, handing me a glass. She leaned over and whispered, "I think somebody's already spiked the punch."
"As long as it's not LSD," I muttered, as I took a sip. Blah. Whatever it was, I thought, it still tasted like shit.
I still hated dancing. While Ginny and I struggled with our little modified twist, I glanced over at the other couples. Most of them looked relaxed and totally comfortable, like they were having a great time. I felt like a complete and total idiot.
"You don't look like you're having a good time," said Ginny, leaning into me.
I smiled wanly. "I'm the most uncoordinated guy in the room," I said.
Ginny looked up and kissed me. "Not to me," she said, grinning.
"Thanks," I said. I decided to pick up the pace a bit and imitate a move I saw one of the teens do a few couples away from us. I lifted up my arms and spun around, but almost immediately collided into someone. I looked up and saw the angry face of Ben Kingston, the linebacker on the Tampa Central football team.
I immediately stopped and backed up. "B-Ben!" I said. I hadn't forgotten what he'd done to Tim back in the locker room a few weeks earlier.
"Watch it, Larson, you fuckin' dick!" he snarled.
"Sorry, man," I said, meekly. "I'm a total klutz at this."
"That's okay." He laughed and leaned down towards me, glancing over at Ginny. "Hey, Wil," he whispered. "You gonna slip her that giant salami of yours? She looks like she really needs it."
I winced, but didn't answer.
Ben stood back up and laughed wickedly, then went back to dancing with his girlfriend.
"What did he say to you?" said Ginny, giving Ben a look and pulling me back by the shoulders.
"He said they were serving food in the other room," I said, taking her hand. "Let's go get something to eat."
By 11:15, we were all pretty beat. Ginny and I stood near the entrance, anxiously looking for Sky and Melissa.
"Where the hell are those two?" I fumed. "I'd like to get home at some point." Inside, I was actually thinking about what Sky and I would be doing later on tonight, on the boat.
Ginny looked back into the ballroom, which had to have at least a thousand raucous kids on the dance floor. The band was performing a pretty fair cover version of Sly & The Family Stone's "Dance to the Music," and the floor pounded with the beat.
Suddenly, we heard a noise from the hallway behind us. There was a lot of yelling, like somebody was having a knock-down, screaming argument. Oh, shit, I thought. It sounded like Sky and Melissa.
Ginny and I looked each other, and we both winced.
"It's them, isn't it?" she said.
I nodded. We trotted down the hall and turned the corner. Sky and Melissa were nose-to-nose, yelling at each other at the top of their lungs.
"Just go to hell, Sky!" she shouted.
"You stupid BITCH!" he yelled. "I knew I never should've taken you here in the first place!"
"I've had enough of this," she snapped. She looked over and saw me and Ginny, staring at her. "Ginny, I'm leaving. Can your aunt give me a ride back home?"
Ginny turned to me, with a look of concern on her face.
I nodded to her. "Go ahead," I said, quietly. "I'll be okay. I'll get out of here somehow. I'll call you tomorrow," I said.
"You're a doll," she said, giving me a little peck on the cheek.
Melissa stormed out the side entrance and walked over to the sidewalk. Ginny shrugged her shoulders and made a helpless expression, then ran out right behind her.
Sky stood there, fuming.
"Hey, nice night for a fight, huh?" I said, sarcastically.
"Go fuck yourself," he said.
I leaned forward. "You know," I said quietly, "it's long enough that I think I might just be able to do that." I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows.
"Go to hell, Wil!" he snapped, and walked out the door.
What the fuck is this, I thought. Oh, screw it. Sky had been pretty moody lately -- probably just the pressure of final exams. I decided to go back inside, sit down, and listen to the band, which had just started playing a really good cover version of The Beach Boys' new hit, "I Can Hear Music," which was one of my total faves. I winced on a couple of the band's bad harmonies, but I decided to avoid jumping up on stage and trying to help them out this time.
As the song ended, I thought about what I'd been through over the past year. I felt like Sky and I had come full circle with each other. We'd been friends almost forever, then we just about fell apart at Christmas. Now, summer was just about here, and we were closer than ever -- more than I ever thought possible. I decided then and there, I'd have to stay going to Tampa Central. I knew that was the best way I could continue seeing Sky. We'd find a way to avoid letting anybody know what was going on. And after we graduated in a few years... well, that was too far away to think about just yet.
I glanced at my watch. Shit -- it was already 11:30. I walked out the side door and looked around. Sky was nowhere in sight. I walked down the street and found his GTO was still in the parking lot next door, but it was locked and empty. Where could he be? I looked over at the City Pier and saw a forlorn figure standing on the dock in the shadows, looking out towards the Gulf.
I ran across the stretch of sand that separated the parking lot and the pier, and climbed up the ladder. The figure turned and looked at me. It was Sky. Tears were running down his face.
"What the fuck do you want?" he snarled, turning away from me.
"Hey," I said softly. "What's the problem, man?"
He started sobbing. "I don't fuckin' know," he said, through his tears.
We walked a few feet down the dock until we found an open space, then sat down on the side and let our legs dangle over the edge. I put my arm around his shoulders.
"Melissa just drives me fuckin' nuts," he said, wiping his eyes. "I swear, part of me really loves her, but then she gets so totally stupid about everything, I'd just like to... Sometimes I'd like to just fuckin' strangle her!"
"C'mon, Sky," I said, soothingly. "Don't let her get to you. Listen, you and I are still gonna go back to the boat, right?"
He nodded, then turned his head and kissed me.
I grinned. "Hey, maybe I could get Ginny to find you somebody else."
"Yeah," he said, attempting to smile. "I think I'm too fucked-up over Melissa. Maybe I should start seein' somebody new."
"Let's go," I said, standing up. "She's gone back with Ginny to her aunt's place. She'll get her a ride home."
Sky stood up and looked over at me. The moon was shining bright, and I could see it reflecting in his blue eyes. He'd let his hair grow a little longer, now that football season was over. I hadn't noticed before that his sideburns were starting to grow in.
"Hey," I said, tickling the side of his face. "You're turning into the wolfman!"
Sky laughed. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I'm gettin' in some sideburns. Pretty cool, huh?"
I sighed. "I probably won't be able to grow any sideburns for another two years at least," I said. "I'll be 14 next month. Shit, I'm lucky if I shave even once a week."
"Shut up, Wil," he said. He took me in his arms and kissed me, hard. We stood there for thirty seconds, and he gently reached down to my groin. In moments, I was rigid. I felt his tongue move past my teeth, and I moaned. I closed my eyes and put my hand on the back of his head.
Suddenly, we heard laughter behind us. We froze and broke off our kiss, then turned.
It was Melissa. She was standing on the dock ladder, one foot on the wooden deck, the other on the top rung.
"I... can't believe it!" she laughed. She pulled herself up and walked towards us.
"What are you doin' here?" Sky snapped.
"I came back to get my purse from your car," she said, still laughing. "But instead, I found you two... Oh, this is too much!" She laughed again, still louder this time, but I saw an enraged look in her eyes.
Sky took a step forward. "Shut up, Melissa!" he cried.
She was almost hysterical. "I always knew Wil was... different. Even you said he was a fag!"
My face reddened.
"But you!" she said, shaking her head, then laughing again. "Oh, my God. Wait 'till the others hear this!"
Still laughing, she started back down the ladder.
"YOU'RE NOT GONNA TELL ANYBODY ABOUT THIS, YOU BITCH!" he screamed, and leapt towards her.
She screamed, her hands clawing at the air, and she fell backwards. Sky lay on the dock, gasping for breath, and I ran over to him and helped him up. We stared over the edge.
Melissa lay on her back on the sand, motionless, ten feet below the pier.
"Oh Christ, oh fuck, oh shit!" he cried, as he climbed down the steps. I followed him down and jumped over the last five rungs.
We knelt beside her. Melissa lay in the sand, her black dress flowing out on the beach. The moon caught the little pearl necklace around her neck, and it sparkled and shined in the light. She looked beautiful.
I felt for a pulse. "She's... she's still alive," I said. "But I think she's hurt."
Sky turned to me. "I swear, I didn't even touch her, Wil," he whispered.
"Sky," I said. "We gotta call an ambulance."
He shook his head. "Help me lift her up."
We dragged her over to the car. Sky held her while I unlocked the doors. He slipped her into the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt, then slammed the door.
"We really should get some help," I started.
"No," he said. "I'm gonna take her to St. Joseph's. It's only two miles on the other side of the Courtney Campbell Causeway. That's the closest hospital I know of. I can be there in less than ten minutes."
"I'm coming with you," I said, pushing past him to the back seat.
He put his hand against me. "No, Wil," he said, quietly. "This is my problem, not yours."
"It's our problem!" I yelled. "I can help, really!"
Sky shook his head. "Stay here, Wil," he said, quietly. "Go find Ginny. You can get another ride home. Gimme at least an hour, then call the hospital. I'll check her in under her name. Don't tell my folks yet -- I'll call 'em after I hear from you. I'll take care of everything."
I nodded. "Be careful, Sky," I said, as he got in the car and slammed the door.
He leaned out the window and looked up at me. "This isn't your fault, Wil."
Tears came to my eyes. I never would've convinced him to go to the prom if I'd known this would happen.
I looked at him. "I love you, Sky."
He nodded, then tried to laugh. "If we make it through this, there's still the boat."
"Hurry up, asshole!" I said.
He nodded and cranked up the engine, then screeched down the street, towards the Causeway entrance.
I trudged back to the pier and sat down. What was I going to do now? I glanced at my watch. It was just 11:45. I looked up at the moon, then realized there was a pay phone beside me.
"Who do I know around here that I could call at midnight?" I asked out loud.
Pete.
He was only ten minutes away, in Madeira Beach. I jumped up, slipped in a dime and dialed his number. He answered on the second ring.
"Thanks for calling the offices of Midnight Tunes Entertainment!"
"Pete!" I cried. "It's me, Wil."
"Shit," he said. "Something's very uncool."
"You gotta pick me up, man," I said. "Sky... we... there's been an accident. Meet me in front of the Clearwater Marriott, and I'll explain."
"I'm on my way."
Fifteen minutes later, I was holding on for dear life behind Pete on his Honda as we roared down Gandy Bridge. He'd convinced me I should just go home and call Sky from there. He agreed with Sky that I should stay out of this, at least until we found out if Melissa was okay.
"I'm starved, man!" he yelled, over the rushing wind. "Can we grab somethin' on the way to your place?"
We stopped by Steak & Shake on Dale Mabry Boulevard, which had a quick drive-through lane. Even though it was right across the street from our hated rivals at Plant High, I thought the burgers there were the best in Tampa. Pete and I each had a double cheeseburger and a chocolate shake.
"These are cosmically good, man," he said, grinning at me. "Totally cool."
I nodded. "Nothing like 'em," I said, taking another huge bite. I always loved Steak & Shake. Like Krispy Kreme doughnuts, this was one of those great Southern fast-food traditions you couldn't find in any other part of the country.
We finished our meal. I checked my watch. It was only 12:30. I still had fifteen minutes to get home and call Sky.
We hopped back on Pete's motorcycle and zoomed down the highway, then rode the two miles down Kennedy Blvd. and took a right, over to my house on El Prado. As we turned the corner, my heart sank.
There were two police cars in our driveway, one with its lights still on.
Pete pulled up in the yard, and I hopped off, tossing him the helmet. "Wait!" he called. "Lemme come with you!"
I ran up the steps and into the living room, leaving the front door wide open. My mother was on the couch, with tears running down her face, and a cop was sitting next to her with his hand on her shoulder. The police car lights flashed through the front entrance, illuminating all of us in bizarre shades of blue and red.
She looked up at me and screamed. "Oh my God!"
Mom ran up to me and hugged me, sobbing. What was this all about?
My father got out of his chair and walked over to me. His face looked haggard and drawn. "Son -- we... we thought you were dead," he choked.
"But I'm here!" I said, annoyed. "What the hell's going on?"
"Do you know Schuyler Jones?" asked one of the officers.
I nodded.
My dad stood next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Son, I have some bad news. They found Sky's car, on the Causeway. There's been an accident. Two bodies... burned beyond recognition. We thought for certain that you..."
I collapsed to the floor, as my whole world fell apart. I began to scream. And I couldn't stop.
I kept screaming, even when my parents tried to console me.
I kept screaming, even when the police tried to gently talk to me, pleading with me to stay calm.
I kept screaming, even when Pete held me, tried to reason with me.
I kept screaming, even when the ambulance came, and they tied me down to the stretcher, and drove off into the night.
Only when they shot me with 1500 milligrams of Nembutol did my screams finally cease. I was out for almost exactly two days.
I slipped in and out of consciousness. I heard voices. Someone was saying I had some kind of breakdown. I could dimly see my parents, with Pete standing next to them. Then blackness.
It was the dream again. I was back at school. I think it was early summer. Sky and I had just finished another hard workout in the gym. We were naked in the shower together, and we were alone. I glanced up at him. His muscles rippled as the water cascaded over his tanned body. Sky turned to me, and I could see he had a huge erection.
He grinned, and reached out and pulled me over to him. I tried to protest, but he told me nobody would ever find out. He kissed me, passionately, and reached for my groin. I moaned with desire.
Suddenly, Sky opened his mouth to scream, but I heard no sound. He fell back away from me and hit the shower wall. As I watched in horror, his body burst into flames. I looked up at the faucet, but the water had stopped. Sky fell to the floor, screaming in silent agony as the flames consumed him. I desperately reached out to him, and the room went black.
I opened my eyes. The room was dark, and I couldn't see very well. I tried to sit up, but I couldn't move. My arms felt heavy.
"What... where am I?" I asked, groggily.
"I'm here, Wil." It was Pete. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder.
"I... I can't move," I said. My throat was sore for some reason.
Pete leaned down to me and whispered. "They've got you in restraints. You're in the hospital, Wil. You've been here for two days."
Suddenly, I remembered.
"Oh, god," I croaked. "It wasn't a nightmare." I began sobbing, quietly.
"No," he said. "I'm sorry, Wil. Sky's gone."
I nodded. I understood. I didn't remember anything after we got home, but I accepted what had happened.
"The nurses will kill me for this," Pete said, "but I'm gonna let your arms loose. Promise me you'll stay in bed, Wil."
"Yeah. I'm okay now."
He unbuckled the restraints and I sat up. "Tell me what happened," I said, quietly.
Pete had an expression of utter sorrow on his face. "It's all here in the paper."
He handed me yesterday's issue of the Tampa Tribune. The front page of the metro section had a medium-sized headline: "Two Local Students Killed in Fiery Crash -- Police Suspect Alcohol a Factor." I looked at the photo beside the headline, and could see the remnants of a GTO, burned to a cinder, behind what used to be a giant Texaco tanker truck. The bridge looked pretty damaged as well. A second picture showed the rear bumper of the car mostly intact, with a 'Tampa Central Cheetahs' bumper sticker still barely visible on the back. I couldn't read the rest of it, because I didn't have my glasses or contacts, and my eyes were brimming with tears.
"Sky's dead, isn't he." I said it as a fact, not a question.
"Yes." Pete paused. "I'm going to call your parents. Stay here, and don't move. Wil, listen to me: you're alive. You've gotta stay strong, man. We'll get through this together, I promise."
I nodded. I was too exhausted to cry, or talk, or do anything. I leaned back and closed my eyes.
"You gave us quite a scare when they brought you in."
I looked up, and it was a nurse, a pretty black woman in a light green gown.
"I thought nurses only wore white," I said, sleepily.
She smiled. "We have every color of the rainbow here. I'm Nurse Janette."
I nodded. "Is it time for me to leave yet?"
She looked over at the clock. "Your parents will be here in a few hours, Wil," she said. "Listen, there's some people here to see you."
"I don't want to see anybody," I said, dully.
The nurse leaned over to me. "It's Sky's parents," she said, quietly. "I really think you should talk to them."
I sighed, then nodded my head. She opened the door.
When they walked in, I stared at their faces. Dr. Jones and his wife looked like they had aged ten years since I'd last seen them, only a few days ago.
Sky's mother hugged me. "I'm so sorry all this happened, Wil," she said, quietly. "This is not your fault. It was just an accident. We just thank God that you're alive."
Dr. Jones put his hand on my shoulder. "I can't tell you how glad we are that you weren't in the car with them. If you had, it would've been as if we'd lost two sons."
"I'm... I'm so sorry about this," I choked, starting to cry.
"No, Wil," Dr. Jones said. "There's nothing for you to be sorry about. Can you tell us one thing?"
I nodded.
"Was Sky... were Sky and Melissa drinking at the dance?"
"No," I whispered. "Only the punch. They were totally sober, I swear."
Dr. Jones nodded. "I'm glad to hear that," he said. "The autopsy isn't going well, because of the..." He almost choked, then caught himself and took a deep breath. "Because of the amount of gasoline at the scene. They hit a gas truck on the Causeway." His lower lip trembled.
I stared at him. I'd never seen Sky's father like this before. He'd always been so... so calm, so completely under control.
Mrs. Jones kissed my forehead. "You get some sleep, Wil," she said. "God bless you." They turned to leave.
"Dr. Jones?" I called. He turned back to me. "Can I... can I see Sky?"
He slowly shook his head. "I don't want you to see the body, Wil," he said, closing his eyes and bowing his head. "I want you to remember him the way he was."
Mrs. Jones began sobbing quietly, and he led her away from the room.
They released me from the hospital the next morning. My father drove the car home, and my mother sat next to me in the back, fighting back tears, with her arm around my shoulder. Sharon sat in the front seat and watched me. I could see her eyes were red and swollen.
We pulled up into the driveway, and the four of us got out of the car.
"Are you strong enough to walk upstairs, son?" asked my dad, quietly.
I nodded.
Later that afternoon, my father knocked on my door. He opened it and said, "I'm sorry to bother you, Wil. Two detectives from the police department want to talk to you."
I nodded, and two men in suits walked in. "Do you mind if we talk to your son alone, Mr. Larson?" asked one of them.
"We just want to talk to William about Schuyler Jones," the other said. "It's routine. Just some background information."
My father glanced over at me.
"It's okay, Dad. I'll talk to them," I said, quietly. My father nodded and closed the door.
"William..." the taller man began.
"It's Wil," I said, dully. "One L."
"Sorry," he said, "Wil. You were the last person to see Schuyler Jones on the night of June 7th, isn't that right?"
No, I thought. The gasoline truck driver Sky ran into was the last to see him alive, just about two seconds before all of them died.
"Yeah," I said.
"Wil, we have a difficult situation with this case," said the other man. "Did you also see Melissa Rivington that night?"
"We went to the dance together in Sky's car," I said.
He nodded. "Look, Wil," the shorter detective said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "I shouldn't be doing this, but I'm gonna give it to you straight. You know Sky and Melissa died in the car crash that night."
I nodded.
"The speedometer was frozen at 116 miles an hour, so that much we know," he said, consulting his notes. "Initially, we thought they both died instantly, along with the truck driver they rear-ended. Unfortunately, a routine autopsy determined that Melissa Rivington was already dead before the crash."
My heart stopped. I looked up at him. "That's impossible," I whispered.
"That's what we said," he replied. "Think, Wil. Did you see Sky and Melissa together again before you left?"
Before I could speak, I saw Sky's face in the dean's office. "It was all me," he was saying. "Wil had nothing to do with this." I knew what Sky would want me to say now.
"No," I said, quietly. "The last time I saw Sky was in the hotel lobby, with Ginny. Then I left with a friend of mine."
The two detectives nodded. "Yeah. Virginia Randall. That checks out with the other witnesses."
They got up to leave, then paused at my door. "Wil," the tall one said. "No one else knows about this. The department has decided it would do no good for their families to know. Two teenagers are dead, and nothing can bring them back."
I nodded. "Nothing can bring them back," I repeated.
"I'm glad you agree, Wil," he said. "Please keep all of this information to yourself. And please call our office if you remember anything else about that night."
That terrible night.
He closed the door. I lay there and stared at the ceiling for the rest of the day.
Pete came by on Wednesday to go with me to the funeral. Sky's parents called and insisted that we ride with them in the limousine, along with his brother Bill, who had come down from college, and his sister Carol.
We rode together in silence. I felt completely numb. I don't really remember what happened at the cemetery. I can see glimpses of a minister mumbling some words, crying faces, and a casket being lowered into the ground. I think Coach Lucas was there. Chuck, too. I dimly recall Ginny standing next to me, sobbing and holding my hand. I didn't feel anything. No tears. Nothing.
I didn't feel like going to Melissa's funeral the following day. We sent flowers and a note instead. I stayed in my room and put the White Album on auto-repeat.
I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Suddenly, I was conscious of a warm shape near my arm. I glanced over and it was Samantha, my sister's pet Siamese. The cat softly mewed, then licked my arm and curled up beside me. It purred happily, then put its paw out on my arm and nuzzled its head next to me. I closed my eyes and slept.
Three days went by. I cancelled my plans to join the Greater Tampa swim team. I didn't feel like doing anything. I stayed in bed mostly and just listened to music.
My parents insisted that I come with them to see a psychiatrist, but I adamantly refused. They tried to tell me I was in shock, but I shook my head. I'm just tired, I said.
"I'm so tired... I haven't slept a wink." The Beatles song from the White Album kept playing through my head, over and over again.
I kept running over the facts. No matter how I examined the equation, it always came out the same way: Sky was dead because of me.
I had helped Sky get better grades. His parents rewarded him by buying him a car. If he'd never gotten the car, he wouldn't be dead. All my fault.
Sky had fallen in love with me. He kissed me on the pier. Because of that, Melissa saw us, and she fell off the ladder and died. Sky tried to take her to the hospital, and died on the way. Still my fault.
I hadn't insisted on riding with him in the car. If I had just been there, he would've lived, I know it. My fault again.
When I felt better, I decided I would go to the library and do some research on suicide. I'd find a way to take care of it, as quickly and painlessly as I could. Maybe I'd feel up to doing it by my birthday in a few weeks.
On Saturday, there was a knock at my door. I looked up from my bed. My mother leaned her head in.
"Wil," she said. "There's someone here to see you."
"Tell them to go away," I said. "I know what it's like to be dead."
Suddenly, a voice from the outside began singing from the same Beatles song. "I know what it is to be sad. And it's makin' me feel like... I've never been born." Maybe it was John Lennon.
She opened the door and Pete walked in, grinning.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
"Can I come in?" he asked.
I stared at the wall. "I won't stop you," I said.
Pete turned to my mother. "Thanks, Mrs. Larson." She nodded and closed the door. Pete walked over and sat down on my bed. He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair. He sighed.
I looked up at him. Tears began running down his face. He was shaking.
Suddenly, I started to cry. I began sobbing, first quietly, and then as loudly as I could. I sat up and wrapped my arms around him. My body was wracked with sobs. We held each other for a long time.
I don't know how he did it, but Pete managed to convince my folks to let me stay with him at his beach house for a week or so.
We mostly sat around listening to music. Sometimes, we walked up and down the beach. I didn't feel like swimming, though. I just sat on the sand and looked out at the Gulf of Mexico for hours. It was beautiful. I always loved how the sunlit waves reflected that strange greenish-blue color. I loved the sound of the surf as it foamed up on the sand and hissed away. I even liked the slightly fishy smell of the ocean, and the odd stench of the green kelp that washed up on the shore late at night.
I wondered how it would feel if I walked out into the water and started to swim, and just kept on swimming until I just couldn't swim any more. I bet I could get out there at least fifteen miles, maybe even twenty miles, easy. They'd never be able to find me after I stopped, I thought.
One day, I was sitting on a beanbag chair in Pete's bedroom, and we were listening to some Beatles 45s. I started singing along with "The Ballad of John and Yoko," which had just come out a few weeks earlier. Pete looked up and grinned at me.
"Good song, huh?" he said.
"Yeah, I guess," I said. I joined in with the chorus.
"Christ, you know it ain't easy You know how hard it can be. The way things are goin' they're gonna crucify me."
Pete chuckled. "Lennon's right," he said, shaking his head. "They're gonna crucify him someday, man."
I stopped singing. "Shut up, Pete," I snapped. "That's not what he means in the song." Suddenly, I was filled with anger, and I began to sob, quietly. I wasn't even sure why.
He walked over and sat next to me, on the floor. "Wil," he said, quietly. "Listen to me. I need you to come back to earth."
I stared at him, then I shook my head. "I can't, Pete," I said, suddenly feeling very calm. "I'm going to die soon."
He laughed. "No, you're not, you douche."
He sounded so sure of himself. I hated him immediately. "Shut up," I snapped.
"Wil," he said, leaning over to me and grabbing my shoulders. "You're gonna live a long, long time. Trust me. I know."
I stared at him. "You knew that Sky was going to die, didn't you?"
He suddenly looked like he had a lifetime of pain etched on his face. "I knew it the day I met you," he said, simply.
I closed my eyes. "But you didn't tell me," I croaked.
"I tried," he said. "You saw what happened. Sky was meant to die. He was always gonna die. It was his time, man."
"No," I whispered.
"It was over water, Wil," he said, sadly. "I didn't see the bridge in my dream, but I saw his face and the fire, floating over water. That's what I couldn't understand. It was karma."
"FUCK KARMA!" I said, jumping to my feet and shaking with rage. "Fuck YOU, fuck KARMA, fuck GOD, fuck the COSMOS, fuck EVERYBODY!"
Pete looked up at me and grinned. "I agree with you," he said. "Fuck 'em all."
"Damned fucking right!" I yelled.
Pete started laughing.
"What are you laughing at, asshole?" I snarled.
"I'm laughing at an ASSHOLE!" he yelled. He laughed harder.
I started to smile. "Shut up," I said.
"Oh, pardon ME," he said, laughing. "You're trying to suffer, and I'm interrupting you!"
I glared at him. "You know I'm responsible for his death," I said, angrily. "If it wasn't for me, Sky would still be alive. Melissa, too. Even the truck driver. All because of me."
Pete laughed again. "You are such a selfish asshole, man," he said, shaking his head.
Without thinking, I reached forward and tried to punch him in the face. Like lightning, he grabbed my hand and pulled it back down to the bed, twisting it, then lay on top of me, roughly.
"GODDAMMIT! Listen to me, Wil!" he said, loudly. "I've already heard all your fucking arguments! Trust me, you won't win an argument about logic with me, man! I'm gonna be a fucking philosophy major! There's no way you're the one to blame for what happened. True, you're one of the proximate causes, but you're not the only one. You're not even the main reason, not by a long shot!"
Tears ran down my face, not just from the physical pain of my hand, but the reality that I knew Pete was wrong. He had to be.
He leaned down and kissed the tears from my face, then let go of my hand. He sighed and looked at me, sadly. Suddenly, he jumped up and paced back and forth by the bed.
"Alright," he said. "You wanna get into this now? Fine. Let's go down this logically. You say it's your fault that Sky got the car in the first place, right? Because you helped him get better grades?"
I nodded.
"BULLSHIT!" he yelled, making me jump. "Sky got better grades because he worked for it. If it wasn't you, it could've been anybody else helping him. Or even Sky by himself."
I nodded, meekly. I guess that was possible.
"And do you know why Sky got the car?" he asked. "Because he was a fuckin' spoiled rich kid, whose parents gave him everything he ever wanted."
"Don't say that about Sky," I said, quietly.
"I'm sorry, Wil," he said, sitting on the bed. "But it's true. I know everybody liked Sky, but you have to see -- it's partly his parents' fault for buying a stupid fucking immature 16 year-old kid a hot car like that! And it's Sky's fault for wanting it in the first place!"
I closed my eyes.
"LISTEN to me, Wil!" he yelled again.
I opened my eyes and stared at him. "But Melissa would've never seen us at the dock if it wasn't for me," I muttered.
"BULLSHIT AGAIN!" he yelled. "Sky wouldn't have been there at all if he hadn't fought with her in the first place! And Melissa's partly to blame, because SHE was stupid enough to threaten you two on the dock!"
"I should've ridden with him in the car," I said. "He might not have had the wreck if I'd gone."
"YOU ARE SO TOTALLY FULL OF SHIT!" he yelled, so loudly it made me wince. "That stalled truck would've still been on the same bridge, and he still would've had a wreck, only this time you would've died, too. All for nothing."
I looked up at him. "But what if..."
"Goddammit, you are IMPOSSIBLE, Wil!" he said, angrily pacing back and forth. "Okay, 'what if.' Let's say by some miracle you did go with them and made it to the hospital alive, or you stayed at the pier and called an ambulance. You've still got a dead girl in the car. The cops show up, they arrest Sky, convict him of murder, and he goes to the electric chair. Meanwhile, you go to prison for five-to-ten as an accessory, and you get butt-fucked by every guy in jail, ten times a day. Sky's still dead, Melissa's still dead, and your life is ruined. Add it up, Wil."
I shook my head. "You try to make it sound logical, but it's not," I said. "Life isn't that logical."
He leaned forward and kissed me again, and ran his fingers through my hair. He kissed both my eyes, which were brimming with tears again.
"No," he said, softly, holding my face in his hands. "Life isn't always logical, Wil. Neither is love. But I want you to know something: Sky died mainly because of Sky. Not you, not me, not because of the cosmos. Just because of himself." He let me go and leaned back.
I opened my eyes and stared at him. Pete reached out and put his right hand on my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.
He took a deep breath. "The main reason Sky died was because he was an asshole, and because he was driving at 116 miles an hour on a two-lane bridge at midnight."
I shut my eyes, imagining how the wreck looked, how it would sound. I could see the glass break, the metal crunch, the bodies going through the windshield, and the back of the truck exploding in a ball of fire, all in slow motion. I could smell the gasoline fumes, the stench of burning rubber, and the faint scent of the ocean below.
"He wasn't an asshole," I said, quietly, my eyes still closed. Sky was wonderful. Then again, he could be totally incorrigible sometimes.
"Listen to me, Wil," he said. "If Sky hadn't crashed that car then, it would've been the next day, or the day after that, or a week later, or a month later. Any way you look at it, it was gonna happen."
I let out a long breath. Finally, I nodded and lay back on the bed. I felt exhausted.
"And you know what?" he said, laying beside me and gently kissing me. "I'm grateful to God or fate or Buddha or whatever the fuck you want to call it that your karma was so good, you weren't there. That's why you lived, Wil. It wasn't your time, man."
He rolled over on his back. I turned and put my arm across his smooth chest, then buried my head in the crook of his arm.
We lay there together for a long time. My tears eventually stopped, and I relaxed. After awhile, Pete sat up and slowly took off my clothes, then pulled off his own shirt and shorts.
"I seem to recall when we were last here, I had to hurry," he said, smiling. "Now, we're gonna take our time."
It was nearly an hour before he would allow me to climax. For the last five minutes, all I could do was whimper. When Pete finally let me finish, I yelled out so loudly, I was certain the neighbors at the motel next door would call the police. But they didn't.
Pete sat up, dazed. "My GOD," he said, laughing and wiping off his mouth. "Wil, I think that was, what, about a gallon of cum?"
"I'm sorry, man," I said, catching my breath and grinning. "It's been awhile."
He pulled me close to him and we slept for hours, while a cool ocean breeze fluttered the blinds on he window.