Chapter Five
I didn't stand on the front porch long before Drago pulled up to my house. I ran out to the car and got in quickly, hoping that my dad was too busy getting ready for work to notice who I was with. I glanced back at the house and saw the curtains in my parents' room move. Fuck.
"Sup dude," I greeted Drago as he sped off toward downtown.
"Sup," he said, offering a fist that I bumped. He looks good in his workout gear--a sleeveless shirt with tight shorts. Mmmm, his shorts hug his crotch nicely. Fuck, Alvin, eyes above the waist. My gear is fairly similar but everything is baggy. I was never into the baggy look, so it is somewhat uncomfortable wearing all this stuff that doesn't fit me anymore. Luckily, I guess, my jockstrap still fits. I suppose that's because I bought it when I was a freshman and had to take gym. It's a requirement to graduate so I took it early to get it out of the way. It's not that I'm against exercise or whatever but I just hate doing it in big groups with other people. I'm much more of a runner or something else I can do by myself.
"Didju eat breakfast?" he asked after a few moments of silence.
"Yeah, had a medium boiled egg and two turkey sausage links," I replied.
"Good, you need nutrition to build muscle. We'll work on your diet and your exercise routine," he said now turning into the gym parking lot.
"Gonna get me muscle-bound?" I asked with a laugh. He turned to me with a serious look on his face.
"No, loser, but you're not gonna be so skinny that someone could knock you over with a feather," he said. I stopped laughing.
"I'm not thaaaat skinny," I said, a little bit defensive.
"Yes, you are thaaaat skinny," he told me.
We got out of the car and walked inside the gym. It seemed pretty typical for a gym--lots of free weights, all the different machines, treadmills, and whatnot. We talked to the guy at the front desk and he got me set up with a trial membership for two weeks. If I decided that I was going to join, it would be $25 per month plus a down payment, blah blah blah. I started to zone out. Drago saw that I was getting glassy-eyed and hurried the guy along.
"Hey, wake up, dummy," he snapped his fingers in front of my face a few times. I broke out of my trance and gave him a dirty look.
"Fuck off, dummy," I retorted. He rolled his eyes and then led me to the locker room. We locked up our stuff and then he shoved me out toward the free weights.
"We will do free weights and some cardio. We will work abs every day, arms one day and legs the next. We will workout six days a week, meaning three days each for arms and legs. After we workout, we will go to the sauna, take a shower and then jet. If possible, I want to get here by eight, so tomorrow I will pick you up at 7:45," he informed me.
That was a lot of information to take in, but he isn't waiting for anything. He dragged me over to the first set of weights and showed me how to use them. Then he handed me the barbell and I copied what he did at a lower weight. He worked on my technique and after a few tries I started to get the hang of it.
We worked our way through arms and core exercises for the next hour. I was fucking exhausted. Even though he was thoroughly sweaty, Drago didn't look too winded. Guess I am out of shape. My stomach muscles ached. My shoulders, arms and hands felt like noodles. I know I am going to be feeling pain by the afternoon. Maybe I can take a nice long nap. Crap. I have a psychiatrist appointment today. I didn't want to go before and now I really don't want to go. Maybe I can cancel. Postpone, yeah, that sounds better. I'm sick. Or missed my bus. Or got hit by lightning. Does it really matter? It's not like I really need the head-shrinking all that much anyway.
We finished up and wiped down the last of the equipment that we used and headed back to the sauna. It was empty, thankfully. There weren't too many people in the gym that early in the morning. The front desk guy mentioned that lunchtime and after work are the busiest times. I like that we basically have the place to ourselves.
Drago sat down and draped a towel over his lap. I followed suit and closed my eyes hoping that the steam would help sooth my tender muscles. I could feel Drago moving around after a few minutes and opened my eyes to see what he was doing. He had his cock out and was slowly stroking it, looking at me intently. Fuck. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. So long and thick and suddenly I remembered what it felt like in my mouth. I bit my lower lip and stared.
Drago nodded at me like he wanted me to start sucking him off. I looked around in shock. What if someone sees us? Even though the place is practically deserted, we aren't completely alone. He nodded again, more insistently, with a stern look on his face. Oh fuck me if I didn't lean in and take the tip in my mouth. Ohhhhh, yeah. It feels so hot and hard and good in my mouth.
"Mmmmm," I hummed around it and then licked all around the tip. Drago moaned a little bit and I felt my cock getting hard in my shorts. I got more aggressive and started licking up the shaft, getting it wet all over. Then I took aim and went down on it hard, trying to take the whole thing in my mouth. Flashbacks of sucking it Saturday night and also of my fantasy from last night flooded my brain. I wanted all of it in my mouth like I could do in my fantasy but I'm not skilled enough for yet.
Drago grabbed a hold of my head and took over. He moved my head up and down and thrusted up into my mouth rapidly. I gagged and choked pretty much the whole time.
"C'mon cocksucker, gotta learn how to do this right sometime," he said as he fucked my face. Spit and throat slime oozed out of my mouth as he quickened his pace. He slowed down again and let me take over. I pressed into him slowly but forcefully and willed my throat to stretch out around his massive prick. He seemed to understand what I was doing and pressed down on my head.
I moved in between his legs and kneeled in front of him, and pressed down again, this time the angle was better for deep throating. He pushed on my head and I tried to swallow his whole cock.
"Oh fuck that's good," he moaned. I used my tongue as much as I could even though his cock pretty much filled up my entire mouth. I tried everything I'd read about or had seen in porn. He seemed to appreciate my efforts. He grabbed my head again and started fucking up into my mouth. I gagged but he didn't stop. I tried to keep taking breaths when he pulled out and then I felt the thickening and hardening of his cock and knew I was about to have a mouthful of cum.
"I'm cummmmming," he drawled out and I felt the first spurt hit the top of my mouth. Jet after jet pumped into my mouth. I kept swallowing and trying not to gag. Finally, after what must have been eight or nine shots of cum in my mouth, he pulled out. He stroked the last drops of cum out of his cock onto my lips and then sat there with his eyes closed, panting.
"Oh fuck, I'm cumming," I heard from behind me all of the sudden and I felt cum splash against my back. Five or six spurts of cum hit my back. I was in shock. Someone else was in here with us and had just cum all over me. Jesus fuck, why didn't Drago say something or stop me? I kneeled there between Drago's legs frozen in place.
"Thanks guys, that was hot," the guy said. Drago opened his eyes and fist bumped the guy.
"No problem," he said and closed his eyes again. I just sat there with some strangers cum running down my back. I couldn't move. Not only had I just sucked off Drago in public but some other dude had basically joined us and spooged all over me. Drago finally opened his eyes and looked at me in amusement.
"Get up and I'll wipe you down," he said squeezing his dick one more time. Even though I was in shock over what just went down, my cock was still hard and I hadn't cum yet. I slowly got to my feet and turned around.
"Whooooieee, he got you good," Drago said laughing. I turned and gave him a dirty look. "What? He came a bunch, what do you want me to say?" he said. I just shook my head. What does someone say in a situation like this?
"Can we please just go take a shower?" I asked after he finished wiping me down. He handed me my towel and we headed out. I held the towel like it was toxic waste. I threw it in the basket by the door and grabbed another one off the rack. I followed Drago to the showers and pulled off my sweaty gear. I had a million thoughts running through my head and just wanted to get under the hot water. What the fuck am I doing here? Drago and I aren't friends. We haven't been in years. I shouldn't be working out with him and I especially shouldn't be sucking his cock.
I felt a cool breeze when the shower curtain opened and suddenly Drago was behind me in the shower.
"Dude, what the fuck?" I whispered. He just leaned in behind me, reached around with his huge hand, and started stroking my cock. I breathed rapidly and tried to stay on my feet as he pumped his hand up and down my shaft. He put one arm around me and held me against his chest and jacked me off with the other. I felt my balls shift up and tighten and I knew I was about to blow.
"Oh fuck, I'm cumming," I whispered loudly and he picked up his pace. Suddenly I exploded against the shower wall. Shot after shot hit the wall and the last one trickled out onto Drago's hand. He squeezed the last drops out and then lifted his hand to my lips. I only hesitated for a second and then licked my own cum off his hand. I grabbed his hand and held it to my mouth while I licked every bit of seed off of it. I dropped his hand and then sucked in air trying to catch my breath.
"That was so fucking hot," Drago whispered in my ear and then he was gone. For a second I wasn't even sure what had happened. Then I saw the remains of my orgasm washing down the shower drain. Oh my God, Drago just jerked my junk in the shower at the gym. I could barely wrap my head around sucking him off and then he fucking jacked me off! I don't care if he's been a jerk for all these years. I don't really care if he still is a jerk. I am going to workout with him and hang out with him and whatever if it means we are going to fool around like this.
I managed to get washed up quickly and stepped out of the shower and got dressed. I was still pretty stunned by everything that had happened, but I shoved that aside in my brain and tried to play it cool.
"See you around," some guy said to me on his way out the door. I was like, who the fuck is that and then it dawned on me that it was the guy who came all over me. I blushed like crazy.
"See ya," I managed to choke out. I went over to comb my hair in front of the mirror. I still don't know what to do with it. Combing it to the side over the scars and the shaved part looked kind of, I don't know, girly or something. I fooled around with it for a few minutes until Drago came up behind me.
"You ready?" he asked, running his hands through his damp hair a couple of times. That is apparently all it takes for him to get ready.
"Yeah, let's blow," I grabbed my workout bag and we walked out to his car. I started feeling apprehensive as soon as we headed back into the neighborhood. My father had seen us together this morning for sure. But he should be at work by now so hopefully I won't have to worry about him. And my mom seemed to occupy herself with church business all the time so hopefully she won't be around either. Maybe getting out of the house and going to see Dr. Khan wasn't such a bad thing after all. All of these doctor's appointments will keep me busy this summer and away from home.
"You still going to physical therapy?" I asked Drago while we sat at a red light. He was moving pretty damn well considering the severity of his injuries.
"Yeah, still gotta go twice a week. How about you?" he asked, tapping the steering wheel.
"Yeah, twice a week, too. Although maybe I won't have to go as much since we're working out every day," I answered.
"Hmmm," he grunted in response. "You got other shit, too?" he asked. The light finally changed and we were moving again.
"Uh huh. Psychiatrist like three times a week, cognitive therapy twice a week, neurologist once a week and the PT," I ran through my schedule for him.
"That's a lot of fucking appointments," he said pulling into my driveway.
"I hear ya there," I replied.
"I'll be here at 7:45 tomorrow," he told me as I got out of his car.
"Yes, sir," I said a bit snarky.
"Fuck you," he said back, laughing. I waved goodbye and went into the house. I entered silently like a ninja. The house is empty. Fuck yeah! I went to the kitchen and made myself some cereal. I camped out in front of the TV in the living room and ate two bowls of cereal and flipped channels. I went up to my room after I was done and played guitar until it was time to catch the bus.
As I headed out the door I noticed that there was a note taped to the door from my dad.
Alvin,
I told you not to see Drago. Don't do it again. We'll talk when I get home. Make sure you are on time for dinner.
--Dad
Great. I seriously don't want to talk to my dad. Especially now that I actually want to hang out with Drago. Why does my dad have to get all up in my business? My best friends in the world are dead. Let me hang out with the only other person that understands the hell I'm going through. I ripped the note off the door, crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash.
I had to run to catch my bus, but I made it. It was a different driver than the other day and this one didn't mind me playing guitar. In fact he told me he really enjoyed hearing me play and to have a great afternoon. I walked over to Dr. Khan's office and stowed my guitar while I waited for him to call me in. The receptionist didn't give me one dirty look this time. Maybe she isn't on her period anymore. I figure that would cheer me the fuck up.
"Mr. Jacobs," Dr. Khan called me in a few minutes after I arrived. I sat on the big couch again and looked around. Two of the books on the shelf were gone and he'd moved some of the things around on his desk. I could see a picture of a woman holding hands with a little girl on his desk. That must be his wife and kid.
"Let's get started," he said as he sat down with that infernal notebook and a pen. This time he wrote in blue ink instead of black. I never used to notice details like this before. It seems like certain things really stand out to me now. I sat there waiting for him to ask me something before I said anything. He looked at me for a minute and then cleared his throat.
"Well, I guess I'll get things started," he said. I just stared at him. He glanced at his notes. "Have you had any more episodes?" he asked. I sighed.
"Yeah, one. I was at a friend's house," I told him. He nodded and wrote that down.
"Tell me about it, what was the situation, how long did it last, what happened during?" he prompted.
"I went to the bathroom and apparently zoned out. My friend led me to the couch to sit down. They told me that I'd been mumbling the words to a song they couldn't name. I drank some water, then we ate some Chinese food and drank a bunch of scotch," I said in a bored tone.
"You were drinking?" he stopped writing and looked up. Crap. Why had I said that?
"Oh, uh, yeah. We had a graduation party on Saturday and on Sunday we drank some more. Hair of the dog, or whatever," I borrowed Drago's phrase as I explained myself.
"Okay," he said. "Have you talked to Dr. Winters about alcohol consumption? Are you taking pain killers?" he asked. Huh. It never occurred to me that drinking could be harmful. I mean more than it already is.
"No and no," I answered. Dr. Khan nodded his head. He looked up from his notes and gazed at me for a few moments.
"Why are you so hostile?" he asked. That surprised me a bit. I know I am being a jerk but I didn't think it came across as hostile.
"I'm not trying to be hostile. I just don't want to be here," I replied. Might as well be honest, right?
"Okay. Why not?" he inquired. I thought for a moment how to answer that. If I tell him the truth, that I don't want him digging into my sexuality, he's going to figure out that I'm gay and he's going to insist on telling my parents. One of those `if you don't tell them, I will' situations.
"I just don't like talking about myself," I finally said. He squinted at me.
"I don't think that's it. There's something you're afraid I'm going to find out. In my experience, that's either something to do with your sexuality or you're contemplating suicide," he laid it on the line. Oh Christ. What the hell am I supposed to say to that?
"Oh?" I managed to come up with.
"Yes. Are you contemplating suicide?" he asked. Fuck. No matter how I answered that I was stuck. If I said yes' to throw him off the gay-trail, he was going to think I wanted to kill myself and if I said no', he was going to start asking gay questions. Jesus.
"No," I mumbled and stared at my fingernails. I took a big deep breath and just waited for him to start the inquisition.
"Good. Congratulations on graduating," he said. My jaw fell open. He didn't ask. He changed the subject. I closed my mouth.
"Thanks," I choked out. I guess he knew by process of elimination. But he didn't press. What does that mean? Is he going to say something to me? My parents? Dr. Winters?
"What are your plans for the fall? School or work?" he asked. I couldn't focus on that at the moment. I figured that since it is already out there, I may as well find out what his agenda is.
"I know you already guessed it, but I'm gay. And I want to know what you are going to do about it," I said.
"Ahhh, I'm glad you can finally admit it," he said.
"Finally? This is the second time in my life that I've ever met you," I said, beginning to get heated.
"Not to me, but to yourself," he explained. What-the-fuck-ever.
"I've known for a long time that I'm gay, Dr. Khan," I said condescendingly.
"I'm sure you have. But have you ever said those words out loud?" he asked, not bothered by my tone or that I was getting upset.
"Yeah, I told my best friends but they're dead now so it's basically my secret again. Well, except for whatever is going on with Drago. Oh, and Landry," I said realizing that my secret wasn't really a secret anymore.
"Okay. So there are two other people who know that you are gay?" he asked.
"Well, I guess Drago knows because we've been fooling around or whatever and I think Landry asked me out so I think he knows," I said trying to sort it out in my own head.
"So you have a boyfriend? Drago, is it?"
"Uh, no. Drago and I were best friends and then we weren't. Then, well, I don't know, I've given him a couple of blow jobs and he uh, jerked me off...I don't know why he even did it. He's like straight, I guess, and I thought he hated me because he kept calling me a faggot. I don't know why he is doing it, but it's the only sexual contact I've ever had," I blurted out. Why? Why am I telling him these things? It was like the flood gates had broken loose and I couldn't stop talking.
"And the other boy?" he asked.
"Uh, we're all eighteen," I said, feeling creepy when he said boy.
"Sorry, the other guy?" he said after clearing his throat. He looked moderately embarrassed.
"Landry? I don't know. I thought he was straight, too. He's got this on-again, off-again girlfriend and I never would have thought he would be interested in me, but he's been like flirting. He's really hot and I'd definitely be interested. But..." I trailed off.
"But?" Dr. Khan asked.
"It's all a moot point anyway because if my parents find out I'm gay they will kill me. My dad is already acting weird about Drago. My parents hate gay people and my mom's gotten all religious all of the sudden. I can't be gay until I move out. I have to stop this shit with Drago and I can't go out with Landry. If they even think that there's something going on they will make my life hell," I groaned and held my face in my hands. What am I thinking? I can't be gay if I live at home and I don't have a whole lot of options when it comes to moving out. I can't get a job because of all the therapy and crap from the accident. And my parents will probably send me to conversion therapy if they think I am gay. I'm surprised they haven't already.
"Whoa, hold on. So you don't think that your parents will support you if you come out?" he asked.
"God no. No, no, no," I said, shaking my head.
"So you're going to wait to be gay," he said. "How long can you wait?" he looked me in the eye.
"I, uh, I don't know. As long as it takes," I said uncertainly. It sounds like hell in its own way.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"Well, it sounds like hell, frankly," I said bluntly.
"Yes! So not coming out is hell and coming out is hell?" he asked, looking excited for some reason. Like we'd had a breakthrough. Great. My life will be hell no matter what I do. Whee.
"Yeah," I muttered.
"So you may as well come out, right?" he asked. Like it's that easy.
"Uh, no. I don't want to go to conversion therapy, too."
"You think they would try to convert you to straight?"
"I know they will. That or they'll disown me. And because of the accident I can't afford to live on my own. My brain is so scrambled anyway, I probably can't even hold a job. I don't even know if I will ever be right again. What if I can never hold a job? I'm going to end up homeless giving guys blowjobs for crack," I sank back into the couch, defeated. Dr. Khan started laughing. I didn't think it was all that funny.
"Alvin, it will never come to that," he said.
"Oh, yeah. No one smokes crack anymore. I'll probably be taking it up the ass for meth," I said staring up at the ceiling. He kept laughing. I couldn't see the humor.
"Alvin, seriously, I know you think that your parents won't accept you and it's possible that they won't. But you are eighteen years old. You will heal from the accident. And you will be gay with or without their permission. What you have to do is accept yourself. Don't deny yourself," he told me like it answered all of the questions.
"So, I'll wait," I said. There really isn't anything else that I can do. Wait and sneak around a little, I suppose. I don't really want to give up what Drago and I are doing. Now that I've actually gotten some action I don't want to give it up. And if Landry and I hang out, it doesn't have to look like we are gaying-out together. Just friends hanging out.
"We'll work on that," Dr. Khan said. I don't think he gets it. Maybe it's impossible for someone who isn't gay to understand. Coming out isn't any easier just because being gay isn't as intolerable as it once was. Not everyone has come around to that way of thinking. My parents being prime examples. Just because some people are okay with it doesn't mean that my parents won't do everything in their power to eradicate all signs of gayness in me. And accepting myself is pretty much irrelevant. I do accept myself. I don't really have a choice, do I? I was born like this and will die like this. My acceptance really has nothing to do with whether or not my parents kick me out and I end up on the streets wandering around with a head injury.
I sat there staring at the ceiling some more. Dr. Khan wrote some stuff down and then watched me for a few minutes. I get that psychiatrists don't have the answers and that their goal is to get the patient to come to the conclusions on their own, but Dr. Khan doesn't seem to know what the fuck he is doing. He totally poked at the hornets' nest and then wandered off. Maybe Dr. Winters knows another psychiatrist that will be more helpful. What is the point of all of this? Accept myself. Puhleeze.
"So, I've gotta catch a bus, mind if we stop here?" I said when there was about five minutes left in our session. Dr. Khan looked startled.
"Oh. Well, I guess, if you're ready to end early. Is there anything..." he began saying.
"No, I'm good. I'll see you, Wednesday or Thursday or whatever," I interrupted. I stood up and grabbed my guitar case and rushed to the door.
"Thursday," he called out behind me. "Our next appointment is Thursday," he said hurrying behind me.
"Kay," I said noncommittally and bailed out the door to the stairs. I didn't wait for the elevator. I need some fresh air. I sped down the stairs and out the front door. Once on the street I stopped and took several deep breaths. What the hell was that? I know for sure I don't want to go back. I am pissed off and more worried than ever. Whatever pleasure I got from getting a handy from Drago earlier is out the window now. How can I keep doing that without my suspicious Dad figuring things out? Maybe I can hang with Landry, but that can never go anywhere either. I am living in denial. Maybe that was Dr. Khan's point. I have to do better at not being gay until I can move out. It is better to deny myself for now. And all this therapy bullshit needs to be over with. I don't need the psychiatrist, or the neurologist, or the cognitive therapist, or the physical therapy. What I need is a job and to get out on my own. Maybe college will have to wait. Or maybe I can somehow swing living in the dorms. That's what student loans are for, right?
I found myself wandering down to the music store Landry works at. I had kind of spaced out and somehow made my way there. I looked inside and there was Landry, leaning on the counter staring out the window with a bored look. When he saw me, his face lit up and he rushed to the front entrance.
"Hey Alvin!" he exclaimed and pulled me into a hug.
"Hey Landry, whassup?" I said barely able to breathe from him hugging me so tight.
"Man, just wishing that it was 6:00 so I can lock up and go home for the night. How about you?" he said with a big smile. Fuck, he's so hot. I wanted to push him up against the front of the building and start kissing him. But that will never happen. Even if it did my dad would of course decide to drive down the street at that exact moment.
"Just got out of the shrink's office," I said with a scowl.
"Lame, sorry dude," he said, rubbing my arm for comfort.
"Thanks, man. So what's this about a concert this weekend?" I asked. I don't know why I pursued it but he is so cute. Maybe we can just be friends. Maybe that's all he wants anyway.
"Oh yeah! Come in for a sec," he said and went back inside the store. He searched for something behind the check-out counter. "Check it," he said, handing me a scrunched up flyer. It was for some amateur exhibition at the Palladium.
"Looks like five bands are playing," I mumbled as I read it over.
"Yeah, and one of those bands is The Four Horsemen. They rock, dude," he exclaimed. I've heard of The Four Horsemen and they are pretty good. Their guitarist is alright but their lead singer is really awesome. Rumor is that they are about to get signed by some label.
"Yeah, I get ya. So you wanna go?" I asked.
"Fuck yeah! How about I pick you up at like 6:30 on Saturday and we'll get something to eat. The first band sucks so it doesn't matter if we miss them. We'll get there around the time the second band goes on stage," he said. It sounded like he'd been thinking about this a lot. Like he'd rehearsed what he was going to say. I could tell that he wanted it to sound all casual, but he was really nervous. Like he is asking me out. Why don't I know if that's what is going on or not? Should I ask? Do I really want to know? Maybe if I am in the dark on why he asked me to go, I can pretend that I didn't know it was a date when my dad inevitably asks.
"Sounds like a plan," I said, now smiling myself. It sounds like fun and maybe if we get some alone time I can get to the bottom of all this. Or get to his bottom. Hmm. It is a sexy bottom. I quickly adjusted myself trying not to be too obvious.
"Great! This is going to be awesome!" he reached out for a fist bump and I returned it. "So 6:30 on Saturday?" he asked.
"Yeah, definitely. I'll wait for you on my front porch," I told him.
"Nice, can't wait," he said with this huge grin. Fuck he's sexy. I want to grab him and sweep everything off the counter...alright, I'd better get out of here before I either do that or just get hard and embarrass myself.
"Cool," I said looking at the clock behind him. "Shit, I've gotta catch my bus. I'll see you on Saturday," I said and then took off for the door.
"Lates," he said and I was out the door. I think I have a date. With Landry fucking Jensen. And I can't tell a soul.
When I got home my dad was waiting for me in the living room.
"How was the psychiatrist?" he asked, putting down the magazine he was reading. My buzz from seeing Landry wore off almost immediately. I don't want to talk to my dad. I want to play guitar before dinner.
"Uh, good, I guess," I answered walking toward the stairs.
"Come sit down, son, I want to talk to you," Dad said and I stopped on the second stair. Fuck. What the hell does he want?
"Okay," I muttered and sat down in the chair across from him. I looked at anything but my dad hoping that whatever he had to say would be quick.
"Yesterday I spoke to you about Drago Jenkins and instead of doing what I asked, you went with him this morning. So, I reiterate, I don't want you seeing the Jenkins boy and that is final," he bellowed. Crap. I knew this conversation was coming, but I guess I forgot with everything else that happened since then.
"We're just working out, Dad, it's not that big of a deal," I said defiantly.
"It ends now and that's all there is to it, son," my dad said loudly. He took a drink out of his martini glass that was nearly empty. Great. He's well on his way to drunk and I'm supposed to play obedient son. Like Aldon. But I don't think my dad ever forbade him from hanging out with his friends.
"Why?" I asked. I can't figure out what my dad's problem with Drago is all of the sudden. And having a certain `look' isn't really a reason. Did he suspect that I'd given Drago a couple of blow jobs? How could he? There was no way he knew.
"Drago Jenkins is nothing but trouble. His family are atheists and your mother and I want you having friends of a higher caliber. Plus, since you've been spending time with him you've gotten drunk twice and you missed church because you were so hungover. Your mother was embarrassed to be seen with you in front of her church friends because you were such a mess," he yelled at me.
"So you're getting religion now, too?" I yelled back. I thought he wasn't into all the church stuff my mother had gotten involved with.
"That's not the point, Alvin! The point is that we want to have a son we can be proud of and you are not that son. You can't be trusted to act decent with decent people. And Jenkins is a loser and a bad influence on you," he screamed. Wow. I don't think there's another father in town that would call Drago a loser. And it's starting to look like my mother's cult of a church has gotten to my dad, too.
"He's helping me build strength after the accident. He's not a loser. Everyone got drunk at graduation. I bet you did, too, when you graduated," I challenged.
"What I did is irrelevant. This is about you and changing the image you portray to important people. I've come to realize over the past couple of weeks that some very important people attend our church and I don't want you coloring how they see our family. These are people who could be very important to my business and to our future. So, no Drago Jenkins. You have professional physical therapists who will do better with your training that he ever could. In fact, you will probably get hurt doing whatever it is that he's "training" you to do," my dad actually added the air quotes, "and I don't want you drinking with him," he concluded. Oh, so my dad was just worried about his work image. And what the church could do to help his business. I should have known that it had nothing to do with religion and everything to do with appearances.
"I don't even want to go to the physical therapist. And the psychiatrist is a hack," I said. I knew I shouldn't poke the bear, but I was losing my temper. I don't know why my dad has to be such a controlling ass all the time.
"You are required to go to physical therapy and you have no choice in the matter. I don't think that you are qualified to determine whether a doctor is a hack or not," he told me.
"You haven't met the guy," I mumbled, getting up and heading for the stairs. I don't want to talk to him anymore.
"Sit down!" he shouted. I stood at the bottom of the stairs and stared at him.
"What?" I asked.
"You need an attitude adjustment, Alvin. Your mother is right, you don't respect your parents. It's time that you started following the rules around here and upheld your end of the bargain, which means that you need to do as you're told," he yelled, slamming down the rest of his martini.
"I think I'm doing just fine at following the rules. You just don't seem to understand that I'm eighteen years old and can make my own decisions about who to see and what appointments to keep," I yelled back.
"You know what, son?" he said, suddenly standing right in front of me. "I'm taking the rest of this week off and I'm going to make sure that you do exactly what you are supposed to do. You will attend every appointment on time. You will participate fully at every doctor's appointment. You will NOT see the Jenkins boy," he roared in my face. "I'll make sure that you are getting the right kind of physical training and mental stimulation and then maybe you can be trusted to make your own decisions." I can feel his spit on my face as he's shouting at me. What the fuck is this? He is going to babysit me all week? It's like I'm a kid or something. And I really don't remember doing anything to instigate him.
"Look, I'm not Aldon, okay? I'll never be Aldon! You can't force me to be more like him," I shouted back in his face.
"No, son. You will never be Aldon, that is painfully obvious. But you can be better than you've been. We let you slide for a long time. Letting you hang out with that pothead Sheldon Jasper. Letting you get involved with the drama department at your school. I hope you don't expect to major in music or drama when you go to school in the fall," he said, sneering at me. I actually do plan to major in music, but damned if I was going to say anything about that right now.
"I don't need you to babysit me and make my decisions. I'm an adult and can take care of myself," I said, sounding less mature than I intended, but I am angry and not thinking straight.
"We'll see about that after this week," he said walking into the kitchen with his martini glass. I stood there fuming, but not saying anything to prompt any further reprisal from my father. I heard him pouring himself another martini. I wanted to tell him that he'd had enough booze for one night--no matter how hypocritical that was considering how much I'd drank over the weekend. Just then my phone beeped indicating I had a text. I pulled it out and opened the lock screen.
"Oh, and I'll be taking that," my dad said suddenly appearing and grabbing the phone from my hands.
"Hey! I need that!" I exclaimed. I tried to grab it back but he held it away from me and pushed back with his other hand.
"No, in fact, you don't need your phone. I'll hold on to this until I'm convinced that you'll make good decisions with it," he told me with a shit-eating grin on his face. He was just being vindictive now. There was no reason to confiscate my phone. This is such bullshit. It's like he got some joy from acting like an asshole. Knowing him, he probably does. It probably gets him hard thinking of punishments and humiliations for me to endure.
"Oh come on, Dad. Give me my phone back," I pleaded. He can't be serious.
"No. Well, I take that back. Call that Jenkins boy and tell him not to come over here anymore," he said. He held my phone out to me. I snatched it out of his hand. I started to text Drago. My father smacked me upside the head.
"I said to call him. I want to hear the words come out of your mouth. I don't want you texting him some baloney about how your father is being unreasonable," he spit out at me furiously. I rolled my eyes.
"No one calls anyone anymore. I'll text him, you can read it before I send it, and then we'll be done with it," I said.
"Just another example of not doing what you're told. Fine, I will type the text and send it and you can go to your room. Be sure to be down at 6:00 for dinner and not a minute later," he commanded. Fuck. He was going to text Drago something embarrassing for sure. Probably something that Drago will take offense to and then make my life miserable again. We'd just started being...I don't know what we are. But after this we probably aren't going to be friends ever again. I reluctantly gave up my phone.
"Whatever," I mumbled and handed him my phone. I wonder if Drago will ever speak to me again. What about Landry? Will I even get to go out Saturday night? I'm never going to have any friends as long as I live here. I've got to figure out a way to live in the dorms in the fall. And figure out a way to major in what I want and not what my father decides.
I stormed up the stairs and slammed my door. Again, not exactly the model of maturity, but at this point I doubt it matters. I threw myself down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. A few minutes later, there was a knock at my door.
"What?" I asked not really caring but asking anyway. The door opened and my dad walked in uninvited.
"Where is your schedule for this week? I need to have it," he announced. I sighed and pulled out the list of appointments that Dr. Winters' office prepared for me. He snatched it out of my hand and turned to walk out the door.
"I expect you to be up at 7:00AM sharp to do chores," he said. "And don't close this door before 9 PM. If I find it shut before then I will remove it," he said before exiting. I rolled my eyes at the back of his head. He'd pulled this crap on me several times over the past few years. It's like he is trying to drive me away. Which he probably is considering how little he appears to like me. What the fuck had I done to make my parents act this way? I can't figure it out. I mean I know that I'm not like Aldon, but parents are supposed to love their children even if they don't have the same interests or if their kids aren't as smart or whatever. I watched my dad descend the stairs and shook my head. This week is going to suck.