Disclaimer: This is a FICTIONAL story describing the love triangle of a teenage boy. If you are not over 18 years of age, or if you find this type of story offensive, or viewing this material is illegal where you are, then refrain from reading it. The story consists of lust, passion, teenage romance, interracial, love and all the rest of the good stuff in that order... Prepare for sin
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Chapter 8: TRUTH BE TOLD
"Syn, you are so different; not like anyone I've known he said." "Syn, you're making this harder then it has to be he said." "Syn, calm down take a deep breath count from 20 backwards she said." I was getting tired of all of that shit real quick. All of them were getting tired. Why couldn't I just have clear feelings like normal people? If I wanted something, why did it have to be so complicated all the fucking time to get it? "Why is it always fucking raining!" The crowd turned to me in a little bit of wonder. Some of the smarter ones started walking fast because they thought they knew a crazy person when they saw them. Some of the dumber ones stood closer, asking me if "I was alright" or "if I needed some help" because of my sudden outburst. People in Brunswick were so fucking stupid! I could be a serial killer or something that didn't care about blowing up the entire sidewalk with all of us on it. "Leave me the fuck alone," I told this one old lady who kept bugging me. I mean after 10 minutes of telling her to leave me alone and she still didn't get it. Sure, I know making random shout outs wasn't helping exactly either, but if someone tells you that they aren't crazy and they are just mad, I think you should believe them. Truth is, I didn't know if I was crazy or just mad. I just had to let some things out off my damn chest. "Lady, lady. He's with me, he'll be alright." After all that badgering, the annoying ass old lady had stolen my phone and called the first number she saw trying to find me some 'help'. She called Shane and somehow Shane had got downtown in record time in his father's truck. I guess I should of felt special since Shane's father only let Shane use the truck for emergencies. Shane was driving as I walked on the sidewalk beside him with the lady still trying to find help for me. "Give me my damn phone!" I told the old lady and when she did, I just spazzed, "Go on with your goddam life. Go try to increase your social security check or something. Leave me alone." Shane calmly waited till the lady gave me a look, gave Shane a look, gave Shane's truck a look and when Shane let out a gentle nod, the funny ass old lady was off FINALLY. She kept staring at me the whole time she was leaving like I was some kind of self-destructive 7 year old. "Syn, are you drunk?" I looked at Shane and rolled my eyes at him. He should have known that I don't only get dramatic when I get drunk. I expected that even if Dr. Lopez didn't understand me, then at least Shane should. "What the hell?" I asked, offended to the point of overreaction, "Are 'you' fucking drunk? I didn't call you over here. That nosy ass old lady called you over here. I can't fucking stand old people." "Syn, you don't mean that," Shane said, smirking a little as though he was amused, "That old lady she may be nosy, but she was nice. I'm sure she was just concerned about your welfare." "I'm a grown ass man!" "No you're not, Syn," Shane mocked, "Just get in the car." Did he think that this all was a joke? He was finding this amusing in a way. I tried to walk slower, but the street all of a sudden was empty enough for Shane to roll his truck as slow as he wanted beside me. He must have been going like two mph or something. "Fuck you, why are you here? Why can't you just fucking leave?" "I don't want to be here," Shane explained, "Some weird lady calls my phone and says my best friend is downtown screaming and carrying on. She thought you had autism." "Best friend huh? If I was your best friend, then you would trust that I'm fine and you'll leave." "Syn, no you're not fine. It's raining. Just get in and tell me what's going on?" "No!" I didn't want to tell him. He was fucking annoying me. I didn't understand why the fuck I couldn't just scream and go crazy if I wanted to. It was a free fucking country. Freedom of speech was one of my rights. Everyday people carried on screaming but just because they did it to someone else it made them justified. When I wanted to scream alone, then all of a sudden a truck pulls up besides me and follows me. He trailed me for blocks. People were beginning to watch us, but I was sure that neither Shane nor I really cared. I was just too pissed off and Shane was just acting too stubborn. It was the weirdest I had seen him. I was wondering where the Shane that did what he was told had disappeared to. "Syn, get in the truck. It's raining for god sakes. You look like you're getting sick. I'm not leaving till you get in." "No! I want to walk." I knew it sounded rude, but I did want to walk. I hadn't figured out anything about what I wanted as far as Sampson and T-Boy was concerned. I was beginning to feel like shit for cursing Dr. Lopez out and storming out of the office in the way I did. I was beginning to feel mad as hell that no one understood me. I needed time to walk. "You can walk when it stops raining. Its dangerous down here." "Shane, are you stupid? I am a grown ass man," I exclaimed again, "If I want to walk in the rain guess what the fuck I'm going to do? I'm going to walk in the rain! If it was you...I'd let you walk in the rain." "T-Boy and Sampson are worried about you. They are calling my cell now trying to find you. You want to talk to them? You want me to pick it up?" "No! Why do they know anyway?" "I told them. Syn, stop acting like this. You'll get pneumonia." Now he was threatening me with diseases. He 'used' to be one of the cool people. Now he was a bugger just like the rest of the Bushwick scum that kept crawling on the streets from day to day annoying me with their fake concern. He wasn't winning any awards. Why couldn't he just go away? It was like he had nothing else to do but get in my business and follow me. "Leave me alone!" I completely stopped walking. It seemed just what Shane wanted to because he got out of the car. I took a defensive stance. If he were going to force me to get into the car then he would have to do it with a fight. I was so pissed at this moment. You ever feel like you just want to be away from everyone and then everyone suddenly finds 'this' moment to bug you the entire time. Shane took a step towards me, his hands stretched out like he was about to wrestle me down. "Hey, ease off." I turned around to see the figure of Abercrombie boy step in. It was Byron. Byron's physique (which was bigger then mine but less then Shane's) stepped in between us. He had barely made it seconds before Shane tried to wrestle me down and would have been put through the worst hurting of his life. "Yo, this doesn't concern you," Shane said, a little defensive, probably because he hadn't seen Byron before. "Well it kind of does," Abercrombie said with aggressive undertones, "Syn is a friend of mine. I'm not just going to have you stepping to him like that. You step to him, then you step to me. I suggest you leave him alone." Shane got quiet like he was scanning for weaknesses, then said two very poisonous words; "Make me." Shane was a silent predator, but a predator was a predator none-the-less. Even though he didn't speak a lot, the few words that he did say held meaning. It was kind of funny to see Byron there, seeming like he was a calf in a lion's den. He took a quick step away from Shane, which was automatic without thinking. "With all due respect, sir, Syn isn't crazy," Abercrombie Byron explained, calmly like he had been shaken, "I think he is old enough to make his own decisions." "I'm walking," I repeated as though I was on a witness stand sticking to my case. "This isn't about age," Shane explained, accepting the calmer approach, "I'm worried regardless of age. He shouldn't be out downtown, alone, in the rain, walking, especially with his emotional baggage." "What emotional baggage?" I asked. "You see?" Abercrombie explained with a slight smile, "There is no emotional baggage. How about you go take yourself home and I'll go with Syn? I'll get him out of the rain. We'll go to a diner somewhere. You for it, Syn?" I looked back at Byron. I didn't really want to go to a fucking diner. I wanted to walk. I wanted to walk until my legs felt glued to the concrete underneath them. I just had this restlessness over me. Then I looked back at Shane. If I had let him know that I didn't want to go to a diner and I wanted to walk alone, I could already picture him pulling me into his truck like I was a two-year-old kid. "Sure." "Syn " Shane started. "At least someone realizes that I have a fucking mind of my own. I am going to use it too. Byron, lets go to a diner." That seemed enough for Shane. He told me something to the likes of 'be careful' or some dumb shit like that and then turned around towards his father's old truck. It pissed me off to a maximum that the people that I trusted were beginning to get on my nerves the most. The night of sex had caused Sampson and I to have our first official argument. Then when I went in the next morning to talk to my beloved shrink about it, she doesn't believe me! After I finish blowing up at her then my best friend catches a case of 'babysitter' and feels that its in his friendship resume to follow me around and tell me what to do all of a sudden. Byron ended up taking me to that diner. As soon as I got out of the rain, it did feel good. The diner was downtown and even though I was wet, I could feel the heat of the place warm me up. Byron had given me his upper coat (since he had 2 coats himself) and I wrapped it over me. Byron hadn't really said anything to me since he got Shane to leave. I guess it was the whole Abercrombie easy-going style that was kicking in. I didn't mind it though. I guess he was just giving me space or something. The whole diner seemed real adult. It seemed like some place that you could see in "Sex and the City" or something. The bar was very close to where our private little table was. Abercrombie Boy seemed to know the rest of the Abercrombie people that were in the diner. I figured that he had come here before. He was probably very accustomed to it, by the way every single waitress stopped by to give a little seductively sweet "Hi Byron," before they passed into the backrooms where they probably puffed up their fake inflatable boobs for better tips. "Damn, its like you own this place," I said softly, breaking the silence just because I felt he earned it. I looked around some more. A jukebox was playing somewhere, but I really couldn't see it. It was slow, boring kind of droning music that sounded like it was the soundtrack to the life of toothpaste squeezers. The diner had dark lighting, almost like the kind of lighting that was in a massage room or something. The whole entire diner smelt like a strong liquor and rich cologne. "Yeah, I once did," Abercrombie explained a little too quickly for me to touch, "Look, a poet " He pointed towards the other side of the room. I seemed to not have noticed this little stage. It wasn't really even a stage. It was a small damn podium that seemed like only a couple of people could fit on at a time. On the podium there stood a dark, yet mulatto woman. She looked like she just woke up and used a ton of make up to cover the fact. She seemed very afrocentric with her fancy African grown that flowed on the floor and had patterns of green with gold. Her hair was wrapped with a golden headdress, but I could still tell that she had her dreds coming out from underneath it. There was this sort of discomfort I had about her. I guess it was just one of those feelings that you just get. I liked her dress, but then again I didn't believe it. What would this woman really know about Africa just because she was in a diner reading poetry in a fake Creole accent? "Beauty Beauty is what I can't have. A possession that can't last. Beauty is that color scheme, that will someday fade Beauty is that loving heat, that by winter will shade Cause when you are young, its fine But when you get old, he saying, 'she ain't mine' Cause beauty it will come and go, beauty's a flow Beauty will come and go, here and there, love and woe Beauty won't rock you to sleep at night Love is blind so beauty won't give him sight He will love a woman, who instead has beauty in stride He will love a woman, who instead has beauty inside So call me ugly all you want Beauty is what I can't have But who cares? Beauty is a possession that can't last." The claps started to ring after she had done her little poem. Some people were snapping which I found hilarious. Byron even seemed to love it, beginning to smile and clap loudly. She just left then, gave a little bow as she did so and went to sit back to her seat. She was just a regular person, eating at the diner. "That was nice. I love poetry. That woman, she spoke the truth. No one really cares about outer beauty in a serious relationship. What matters is on the inside---you know?" I didn't know what he was so in love with. The woman herself who 'seemed' to be speaking from her heart had did it with fake nails, mega make-up on her face and her dredlocks were clearly fake extensions that she would probably be getting her stylist to take out as soon as she was done impressing the soulful young man who was courting her this evening. She didn't speak the truth because she herself was a lie. "Yeah can anyone go up there?" "Sure " He hadn't yet but finished what he was going to say when I got up. I didn't want to wait to ask for permission or anything. I was free. I went where I felt like now. A lot of eyes watched me as I found my way up to the microphone. My eyes set out into the audience. I tapped the microphone softly to see if it was working. It was. I looked over at Byron. He was completely in shock and amazement. Good. That was exactly how I wanted it to be. "I call this one, 'Truth' It goes: I'm sure someone, somewhere, out there, is crying I'm sure somewhere someone is dying, crying, sighing But right here, just now someone was lying My glass is empty and yet I see fill. In mirrors, I see me still Why should this woman hate me cause I'm beautiful? So Ms. Africa-want-to-be, while you beat your chest I must confess, no one here gives a fuck what you 'possess' All your life you looked like shit, so you pretend you have wit Took a stand to try to make all the 'beautifully blessed' people sit Fuck that! I speak for beautiful folk here That would only sleep with your type if they were drunk off beer All this jealousy, blasphemy, mixed with envy But trust that even if I get old, I'll still have my memory My beauty will never fade, will never shade! Ask your lover. Who last night, with me he laid." I pulled heavily away from the microphone. The crowd went quiet. I think I could hear myself breathing in the microphone when I was done. The whole entire diner had gone quiet. The waitresses had stopped trying to walk their way up and down aisles in the dark. The old horny guy by the end of the table with all of the fresh college undergrads was quiet and staring at me. The undergrads were quiet and staring at me. The bartender was staring at me. The few trashy ass drunk women that had been causing a scene the entire night trying to flash people for drinks had been quiet and were staring at me. I made my way away from the microphone in the complete silence. I made my bow to a near silent audience. As I walked down, I realized that slowly and steadily people were clapping. They seemed hesitant at first and then they really started clapping and cheering. It was just then, when the people began to realize what I had said that all of a sudden something happened. "You fucking faggot!" I heard the poet say. The bitter ugly bitch had come out from around her table and she had a busted bottle in her hand. She was coming at me hard with it like she was planning to cut me with it. She had served it at me and all I remember doing was reaching back to dodge her and ending up slapping her hard across her face. I remember there was more screaming. Her boyfriend (the Afrocentric one) had gotten up to fight me as well. Byron had gotten into the mix of it. The guy took a swing at me and he landed it. I took a swing back at him and missed. I did manage to curse at him though and kick him hard as hell in his shins. He growled as I did it. His outclassed girlfriend had come back to get her little revenge but I just smacked her back down to where she was sitting before. That was when her boyfriend hit me harder in the stomach. "Fuck!" By then, there were these security guys who just decided to kick 'ME' out. My stomach was hurting and I was the only one still in pain, but they were kicking me out! After the bitch had attacked me with a broken bottle, they were kicking 'ME' out! They said that I had started the whole entire mess because I had done that poem which was a reply to the poet bitch in there. I knew the last part was my part, but the day was just getting worse. It had been such a bad fucking day and it was just getting worse and worse. I just needed to go home and sleep. I found myself out on the street corner again in the rain. "Hey, want some of this?" Byron handed me this canister. He had come out to join me a couple blocks down from the diner and we were sitting in a dry alley. I figured that the alley was dry because the roofs of the two adjacent buildings had roof ledges that touched. Either way, we were happy that the alley was dry without rain. The alley was however dark and pretty fucking scary. It was real quiet, like no one was there, but still pretty scary because I couldn't really make out the road. It was so scary that if Byron wasn't with me, I would have took my chances in the rain. "Thanks," I replied. I took his canister and drank some of it. It was hard liquor, real hard. "I can't believe you did that," he said, with the widest smile on his lips that I ever seen, "I mean that was straight it was funny. It was just weird. What were you thinking?" "The bitch was getting on my nerves. Her poem was fake." I was glad he was entertained by it, but I really hated the people who were fake and hypocritical. The woman had came on the stage and done this whole thing to insult beautiful people and make beautiful people seem guilty just because they were beautiful. Beautiful was not evil. Some of the nicest people in the world were beautiful. Envy was such an ugly color to wear. "Yeah, but damn! That was crazy. It was extraordinary!" he said and then took his canister back to take a long swallow, "Damn, that made my day. I knew going out with you was going to be fun, but not like this." We exchanged the canister and I let it burn my throat a little more. He was talking way too much. He seemed way too excited about what had just happened. I figured he should be excited since by dissing her in the poetry, I represented 'the beautiful people' which definitely included Byron's sexy, model like self. I mean; his lips and his perfect body was enough to make him a 10 on every girl's list. I probably did make his day. It was just a shame that I just saw this as another fucked up thing to add to my collection of fucked up things for the day. "I'm glad someone had fun," I explained. "What is going on with you?" he asked with this look, "Who was that boy from before? What was all that about?" "Who Shane? He was just trying to make me go with him. I just got into a lot of confrontations today." "Is that why you didn't go out with me?" He looked at me with these real sad eyes. I could tell he was really never used to being stood up. He looked confused as hell. "I been meaning to talk to you about that," I started to explain, "I got into something important last night. I was really going to call you as soon as I got the chance its comfortable that we just seemed to run into each other again." It was weird how we kept running into each other. I mean, Brunswick wasn't huge, but it was big enough for me not to run into the same person once a day without intentionally meaning to. When Byron saw me, he never seemed as surprised as I was either. It was almost like he expected it "Ok, I got to admit," he said, just like he did last time, "I followed you a little while, again. I live across the street from your shrink's place. I really don't think you need a shrink by the way though." "I don't think so either, anymore." I didn't need that bitch. She was getting on my nerves, just like the rest of the people in Brunswick. I was thinking so much about trying to collect some money and move out of Brunswick to somewhere that people didn't give fake smiles all the time and didn't try to confuse my emotions every chance that they got. "Did the reason why you broke our plans have to do with the doctor?" "No," I said, wondering why he would even suggest that, "I just had to do something it was complicated. I had to see if I had feelings for someone." I should of said two people. Too late now. "Oh damn," he said quickly and then added, "Is it that boy Shane?" "Nope, guess again." "Don't lie." I couldn't believe he was saying that. Something seemed to turn on in me when people accused me of lying. I had actually been happy to be around him till that point. Why did he have to go make me mad all over again? I was tired being mad for a single day. I breathed, trying to calm down and not spaz on him, "I'm not lying." "Yeah ok. Regardless, I don't want you seeing that guy anymore." My eyes squinted like people did when they couldn't quite read something. It was the same with Byron. I couldn't quite read what he had just told me. He had just made his perfect little smile, on his perfect little head to say something that was completely off. "What do you mean?" "I just don't want you to see him any more. I don't like him. You should be seeing more of me " He leaned forward. I could feel his hands pinning me against the cold wet wall of the alley. He was breathing hard and so was I. I stressed as he pulled his mouth closer to my face and his body closer to mine. I could feel his cock against my leg from his thin jeans. He was hard! Very hard! I didn't know what I had done to make him so sexually aroused but I knew that I was going to have to check his comment. "Who do you think you are? You can't just tell me who I can be with." "Be quiet." I couldn't believe my ears. He had commanded me to 'be quiet' in a seductive tone since he had his tongue now licking around my neck. The fact that he had 'commanded' me still made me feel a little uncomfortable. Truthfully we did meet a couple of times, but he was still just a stranger. After saving me from Byron's own controlling grip, he should be the last one telling me what to do. "I'm liking the licks, but seriously you can't talk to me like that," I said trying to be cool. I really was liking the licks. He had lifted me up against the wall. My feet were no longer touching the ground. He had my legs harnessed around his ankles in a position that had my back up against the wall and him pinning between mr. My head was pressed hard against the concrete building. He was licking around my neck and then he began to suck on it. He was sucking on it so hard like he was trying to give me a hicky. I wanted to moan even more about how he was grinding his own hard cock against mine to sort of cause me to turn semi-hard quite quickly. He was grinding it in a motion that really felt like he was trying to gyrate it deep into me. It felt great. "I told you to shut the fuck up, didn't I?" he said, completely crushing the mood, "Don't make me tell you again, baby." It must have been the liquor that I had drunk that was causing me to mishear things. I really didn't know if I could have heard that right. "Excuse me? I'm not your baby what is wrong with you?" "Shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you!" He was really scaring me now. He said that and started sucking on my neck for longer and harder. I tried to unpin myself from the wall but I had let him put me in a position where it was incapable for me to move. My legs were wrapped around him and his left arm rested under my ass to support me on the wall. He had his other arm pressed up against my chest, keeping me up against the wall. "Get off of me!" "Shh " "Get the fuck off of me, I'm serious!" His kisses had gotten harder and longer. I felt his right arm moving from off my chest and reaching down lower rapidly as if taking my command to let me go as an invitation. He quickly grasped at my belt. What the fuck was going on? I couldn't believe that this guy was really forcing himself to dig into my pants like he was now. I saw him trying to grasp for my cock, hastily. "Just just let it flow. Just shut up, baby. I'll take care of you." "Get the fuck off me!" By now I was screaming. It was good because he had to use the right hand he was using to reach for my cock and cover my mouth with it. Asshole. I bit down on his hand real hard as soon as he brought it anywhere near my mouth. He squirmed in a pain, letting loose his hold on me. As soon as he did my arm came out and banged him in his mouth. My punch landed flat across his face and he scampered back. "Shit I'm so sorry!" he suddenly said. He was getting off the ground. His mouth was bleeding. He had a look on his face like he had just woken up from something. The hand that he had been using to unbuckle my pants was now being used to hold the jaw that I had just smashed my fist into. "What the fuck you think you were trying to do?" I asked in a completely horrified manner, "You were trying to rape me? I said to get off of me, didn't I? Were you trying to rape me?" I wanted to kick him when he was down. I wanted my leg to smash into his side so that he could feel 'exactly' how pissed off I was at the moment. Truthfully, I didn't think he understood. As he sat there squirming, letting out his little weak ass apologies, I wanted to rape him and show him how it felt. It was weird though, because a part of me almost felt like he would like it. "Of course I wasn't trying to rape you," he answered, his eyes filling up with tears, "I just I care about you. You have no idea how much I care about you. Please, I'm sorry if I scared you. I just wanted to show you how much I cared about you." The fact that he kept saying it was beginning to make it seem even weirder. Here he was, this gorgeous fucking model-like cat who could probably score off the charts as far as facial looks were concerned. Byron was one of those people who could never have an ugly picture and unlike the other boys in my life (T-Boy, Sampson, Shane and even I), Byron seemed like he was a universal picture of handsomeness. I was sure I couldn't meet someone who couldn't just drool over how handsome of a face he had. He could probably turn straight boys gay. "You are crying? You fucking pin me on a wall like you are going to rape 'me' and then 'you' are crying?" "Syn, I didn't mean to hurt you. I am just falling in love," Byron explained, "I never been in love. I don't know how to deal with it. I think I am in love with you though. I realized it today when you read that poem. You belong with me. I'm sorry if I scared you, but I just had to show you how real it was." "Love?" I asked, looking at him like he had 2 faces, "I met you 3 times Byron. There can't be any love. I I need to get out of here." I started to run off. He was calling after me. Matter-of-fact, I think he was coming after me for quite awhile until I broke out into a slow jog just to keep enough distance so that I could get away. I felt so bad when I ran off. In a way Byron seemed to just empty his heart to me. It reminded me of old feelings. It reminded me of the feeling I had when I told T-Boy that I loved him and T-Boy just ran away from me the same exact way that I was running away from Byron. I was feeling guilty. Byron's feelings were clear for me. They weren't sex-based like T-Boy's seemed and they were all confused like Sampson's seemed. He had mentioned 'love'. In Byron I could find happiness, but then why didn't I? I guess I found Byron too physically attractive is why I was most afraid. I knew that he had a kind and welcoming attitude that T-Boy didn't have (or didn't show), which would cause girls to flock to him like crazy. Byron also had the confidence and cool that Sampson didn't have, which would make him even more popular with the ladies and other men. He was too much to belong to one person. That was why he was an escort. Too many people wanted Byron for me to have him. ` None-the-less, he still tried to force himself on me after meeting just 3 times. I definitely had to know someone a lot before I even thought about kissing them. The fact that Byron was so forceful seemed to scare me. He had proved that his behavior was explainable, but was that behavior excusable? I made my way back to Ms. Nicole's house. My chest felt caved in and I felt like I wanted to throw up. I wasn't cold however, even though my clothes were soaked. On the inside I felt warm from all that liquor that I drank when I was with Byron. I came into a quiet house. At first I thought no one was home, but then I heard some quiet taps coming from the upstairs bedrooms. I quietly made my way upstairs, trying to be silent as possible. I wanted to surprise T-Boy or Sampson. I mean; it would be nice to get a little smile or something out of this terrible ass day. The talking became louder and louder as I approached the top of the stairs. I realized that it was coming out of T-Boy's bedroom. I walked closer and went to the door. I heard that it was T-Boy and Sampson, which was clear because their voices kind of sounded very similar to one another, even though they weren't really related. Suddenly, as I was listening to the voices I heard my name, 'Syn'. I didn't mean to spy, but I just couldn't help it. They were talking about me. I had the right to know what they were talking about if my name was mentioned. Right? Either way, I put my ear to the door, listening hard to distinguish the voices. "Do you even like Syn?" T-Boy asked. "Do you?" Sampson replied. "I've always liked Syn. You just seem to like him after you found out that I did," T-Boy accused. "Yeah right. You liked Syn all along right? You liked him when you were calling him a pervert and telling him to leave the house?" Sampson said. "Fuck you! You know I was emotional during that time," T-Boy said "Sure you just seemed to like him after you found out he liked me. He does too. He likes me a lot. We both saw how depressed you looked when you asked him if he had a thing for me. Which I find funny " "Because you don't even like Syn. At least I can admit that I do," T-Boy shot back. "Its none of your business if I do or not." Sampson explained. "I know what this is " "What?" "I know what this is, Sampson. I know you just don't want to think of me with another guy after " "Oh, I get it! No no finish what you were saying. I was just getting ready to laugh " "After that night that you and I had sex together," T-Boy explained, "No I should say, after I took your virginity now all of a sudden you hate to see me even interested in another boy." My mouth dropped open. They had sex with each other before I had even come to the house! This was fucking crazy! My body shivered with discomfort to even think that T-Boy and Sampson could ever come close to even doing something like that. It was true that they weren't really blood brothers, but they were adopted brothers. T-Boy had taken Sampson's virginity. That was something that made me seem to want to even cry more. I wondered if it was that or the fact that Byron had just tried to force himself on me as well that made my eyes begin to water. My eyes were definitely watering. They never watered. Of course, I hadn't let anything drop, but still, I wasn't a crier. Why hadn't anyone told me about this before? Why had they been hiding this from me? Why was I so fucking mad that my veins were popping in my arms and my head was shaking nervously? I barged into the room all of a sudden to see their faces looking at me. They looked shocked and Sampson immediately had on this face of embarrassment. I was disgusted to the point where my mind was thinking of ways to just make them feel 10X worse for keeping that little IMPORTANT detail away from me. I had been trying to solve a math equation of figuring out these two boys when I didn't even know all the numbers that were involved. This was a big number. My lips tightened and all of my anger was shot at T-Boy and Sampson as though they were the same. "You two did what?!"SPECIAL THANKS (GUESTBOOK):
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