The usual disclaimers apply to this story
Je t'aime
by
Caleb Wilson
Part 1
He made his solitary way towards school, his shoes scuffing the pavement as he walked in a gesture of boredom. This was his daily routine Monday to Friday during school days, making his tedious journey to his destination, St Peter's Institute of Learning. He neither liked nor disliked school. He did his required subjects to the best of his ability and on most occasions, as it happened, his grades were above average.
Since he was an only child, school was at times a welcome break from the monotony of home. At other times he hated going to school. That was once a week on a Friday, when after the lunch break they had the whole afternoon dedicated to sporting activities. It wasn't that he hated sports. He actually enjoyed watching the sports programmes on the telly. It was just that when it came to partaking in the activities he was pretty useless. The other day that he dreaded at school was when once a fortnight they went to the local public swimming pool. This came about when three months ago the Principal of the school in all his wisdom decided that all the pupils in his school should learn how to swim. Swimming he hated, not the water. If he were just allowed to play in the shallow end, he would be quite happy to mess around all day, but when they tried to teach him how to do the breast stroke or crawl, he always ended up getting a lung full of water and stood up coughing and spluttering, and under his breath calling the tutors all the nasty names that he could imagine. If he had swallowed an extra amount of water, the insults were even more intense. He refrained from using the profanities out aloud. He learnt from experience that if it happened to be another student coaching him, a quick knee between his legs added more pain to his discomfort. His many tutors in the swimming pool ranged from teachers to other students. The last time he had been in the pool it had been Mr Bentley who was supporting him as he splashed along in what he thought was the crawl at about 50 mph, till Mr Bentley took his arms away and he went under, coming up in his usual manner coughing and spluttering. When he'd recovered sufficiently, he walked to the side of the pool with Mr Bentley in attendance at his side.
While he rested on the edge of the pool trying to regain some sort of composure, the teacher said "Taylor, you're absolutely bloody useless. It's been nearly three months and you can't swim a stroke."
"Sorry, sir."
"God, I give up. Listen to me, Taylor. If you're ever on a boat at sea or on a river or canal and it's about to sink, you know what would be the best action for you to take?"
"No, sir, please enlighten me?"
"My advice to you would be, take a deep breath, go straight to the bottom and run like hell for shore."
"Yes, sir, thank you, sir, for your words of wisdom."
"Don't try to be sarcastic, Taylor. Go and get changed."
He climbed out of the pool that day thinking `Yeah, Bentley was a real foreskin face and penis breath all rolled into one.'
The teacher watched the boy as he made his way to the changing rooms. How can a boy of nearly sixteen be so small and also not be able to swim,' he thought, and why does he have to wear those stupid bloody swimming shorts that reach down to his knees instead of a Speedo?' The teacher turned away shaking his head in resignation to attend to the other students, who had more possibility in learning how to swim.
So as there would be no swimming this week, he perked up a bit at the thought and he walked with a sprightlier step. As he made his way towards school his thoughts focused again on the Friday sporting activities. `Just hope they don't have cricket this Friday, would much prefer it if they had track and field trials. He hated cricket, not the fielding so much, but the batting when he had to face the fast bowlers. God! That ball came at you like a zillion mph. He invariably shut his eyes and just swung his bat and he always missed, with the ball either crashing into the wicket or in most cases some part of his anatomy, which left him lying on the floor in agony and inevitably the pea brain bowler bending over him saying he was sorry and 'are you okay?'. Of course I'm not bloody okay. I wouldn't be lying on the effing floor in agony if I was. Yeah and I bet he's sorry. He wouldn't have that sly grin on his face when he says it. Just wish I could hit one of the bowlers in the goolies with a cricket bat. That would lift their voices a few octaves and stop them playing with themselves for a few days.'
He walked through the school gates his hand in his pocket scratching his private parts. Jeez,' he thought, ever since I've started getting pubes, the base of my dick and balls never stop itching. I spend bloody hours scratching. I wonder if girls get itchy as well. I've seen plenty of kids scratching their balls, but never seen a girl scratching her crutch.'
He made his way to his locker, took out what he required for first period then left the rest of his stuff inside and made his way to his class. No one spoke to him, nor did he speak to anyone. He arrived at his classroom where the only person to greet him was Dawn Roberts, after which he made his way to his desk, sat down and waited for the teacher to arrive and take roll call.
Promptly at 8.45 am Mr Martin walked into the classroom, looked around to get the pupils attention and also to silence their rabbiting. Getting the desired response he opened the register and took the morning roll call, with the class taking pleasure announcing at the top of their voices "Not here, sir," when there was no answer to a particular name.
The morning went as well as can be expected and at the meal break he went to his locker to get his packed lunch which he took to the canteen to consume. He selected a table that was unoccupied and sat down to eat. He was halfway through his food when a chair was drawn out and looking up he saw Dawn Roberts taking a seat.
Dawn was the plainest girl in their class; she had brown mousey coloured hair worn in plaits, slightly protruding teeth, wore spectacles and had freckles around her upturned nose, added to which she was completely flat-chested.
"Okay if I join you, Reuben?"
"Yeah, sit down, Dee." Dawn was one of the very few persons that talked to him socially and he liked her as a friend.
As she sat, she looked at the boy opposite her. He was about 5 feet 2 inches in height with brown hair and eyes, but had the most beautiful pouting pink tinted lips that just asked to be kissed. Reuben was one of the few boys who never remarked or made fun of her looks or figure. She liked him, no, secretly she fancied him, but knew that the feelings weren't reciprocated. She'd known Rueben for over five years. They had both come up from junior school together and in all that time he had never once shown any interest in taking their friendship past the purely platonic level.
"So what have you got to eat?"
Reuben swallowed a mouthful of food before answering. "Ham and tomato sandwiches."
"I've got the usual Monday school lunch, beef stew with veg, and apple crumble and custard."
They sat making small talk till Dawn asked "How come in all the time I've known you, Rube, you don't have a lot of friends? Actually, besides me and Richards who talks to you from time to time as he's the class monitor, nobody seems to take much notice of you."
The boy shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Everyone seems to be too busy talking to each other to notice me. Anyway, I still have you to talk to."
"Yes, but at least I do have other friends. Why don't you try making friends with at least some other boy?"
"I... umm... I'm not sure I want to, at least not to anyone in our class, but I wouldn't mind being friendly with Jason Samuels."
Dawn looked at her friend more intently when he mentioned the name. She'd had suspicions of Reuben for quite some time, but being the good friend that she was, she didn't voice them and was prepared to wait for Reuben to come out with it when he was ready.
Now for once, forgetting herself, she blurted out "Jason Samuels, he's a senior, Rube. He doesn't even know you exist."
Wistfully he looked upwards saying "Yeah, you don't have to tell me." Then realising that his actions and tone of voice betrayed his emotions, he looked at Dawn who was smiling at him. "How long have you known?"
"I've had my suspicions for over a year, but just now you confirmed them."
"So you going to blabber it all over the school?"
"Reuben Taylor, if I wasn't a good friend, I'd slap your face. Is that how little you think of me?"
"Sorry, Dee," he said forlornly. "If you want, you can clobber me."
"Shut up," she said to the downcast boy. "So how long have you been fancying Jason?"
"Like the first time I saw him when we came to St Peter's. The bad thing is I heard he'll be leaving school at the end of this term."
"Why should that worry you, if he doesn't even know you exist?"
"I know that, but just seeing him makes my day and gives fuel for my imagination."
"God, you've really got it bad, Rube. Can't you find any other boy that you could take a liking to?"
"No, I like him and that's it."
Before Dawn could respond to Reuben's statement they heard the bell and both rose simultaneously to return to the classroom to resume their lessons. She topping him by six inches, looked like an older sister looking after her younger brother.
During their afternoon break Dawn sought him out again to continue their lunchtime conversation.
"So have you any ideas on how to get Jason's attention?"
"Lay off, Dee. What's he going to see in me and in any case what makes you think he'd be interested? He might have a girl friend."
"I've been asking around and he hasn't got a girl friend."
"That doesn't mean a thing. He might have a girl outside of this school."
"Yeah, could be, but since he's been at this school he's never really shown much interest in any of the girls."
"What's got into to you? Why are you trying to fix me up with someone who doesn't even know I exist?"
"I don't like seeing my friends moping around all the time. I want to see a light in their eyes and a smile on their face."
Reuben split his mouth from cheek to cheek with a grin. "Satisfied? See? I'm happy."
"Shut up, po face, and listen to me. What would you say if I could get Jason Samuels to talk to you?"
"WHAT!" Reuben yelled. "I've just told you. What's the big deal with you trying to get Jason to notice me."
"Yeah, well why not? I'm fed up of seeing you on your own all the time."
"Oh, God, Dee, you're going to screw me up well and truly."
"No, I won't, you wimp. Just leave it to me."
Before Reuben could respond the bell went for the resumption of classes and Dawn grabbed his arm saying "Come on, Rube, I'll sort you out and if it doesn't work out, you could always try me."
He looked at her and noticed she was serious. "Tell you what, Dee, if he even gets to talk to me, I'll think you've achieved a miracle. As for trying you, umm... I'm not too sure about that, but if you grow some tits, I'll think about it."
She gave him a friendly cuff around the head as they made their way to classes. "You wait and see. I'll perform the miracle you want."
The rest of the week went by more or less the same as all the other weeks, except this week his prayers were answered and they had field and track practice on Friday afternoon. His big achievement being that he increased his position in the eight hundred metres from the normal last to second last, making him feel that little bit better. Mind you, he only beat Henshaw who happened to have stomach cramps, having eaten too much at the lunch break.
After he'd changed and was making his way home, he was just leaving through the main gates when he heard his name called out. Turning to face the source from where his name had been called, he froze. He saw a fair haired six foot plus boy, slim but wiry, walking towards him. He was paralyzed till eventually with the senior only a few metres away he managed to murmur under his breath "Jason," then out loud, "Uh did you call me?"
Jason Samuels caught up with him saying "If your name is Reuben Taylor, then yes."
"Umm... yeah, that's me. What can I do for you?"
The older boy looked the younger up and down. "Your friend's description of you was not very flattering. You look a lot better than she described you. Anyway you owe her five pounds and she'll be collecting on Monday when I tell her we had our conversation."
"Five pounds? What are you talking about? I never made any bets."
Jason looked a bit bewildered. "You didn't make any bets with your girlfriend about me being too stuck up to talk to the younger boys?"
"Girlfriend? What girlfriend?" Then it suddenly hit him. Shit! Dawn. "Was it a lanky flat chested girl with specs and plaits?"
"Yeah, that's her."
Reuben was nervous as hell. His mind was working overtime, thinking of ways to try and find out exactly what Dawn had told Jason and if she'd mentioned that he was very much attracted to the older boy. Knowing Dawn, she would just about have the guts to say it.
"Uh, exactly what did she tell you about me?"
"About you? Nothing. All she said was that the two of you had been talking and my name had come up in the conversation and you'd said I was too stuck up to talk to any of the younger students. The two of you had a bet about it and to prove you wrong we're having a talk and she wins the bet."
Reuben with head lowered was silent for a moment. He was thinking of ways to prolong the conversation. He didn't want Jason walking off now that he'd proven that he wasn't stuck up.
"Why the silence?"
His thoughts were interrupted by Jason's question.
"I... umm... I... crap, I don't know what to say."
"Tell you what, Reuben, I'll give you a lift home and on the way you can think of something to say."
"Oh crikey, give me a lift home. That's bloody brilliant. Okay." His face split into a grin from ear to ear.
"That soon loosened your tongue and what's so brilliant about giving you a lift home?"
"I... umm... uh... I don't know. It just is."
Jason smiled. He liked the look on the younger boy's face. Actually, he liked the boy period. He wasn't one of the boy ravers that all the girls wet their knickers over or fell over themselves to get at, but there was something about the boy. If you stopped to study him, he sort of grew on you.
"Come on, Reuben. Let's go," and he led the younger boy to his car.