Raising Noah
Notice:
The contents of this story is purely fictional although based on real life happenings in my life. All names have been fictionalize to protect the innocent and not so innocent. The content matter of this story concerns love and sex between males teenagers. If this is not what you like reading or it is illegal for you to read this material because of age or laws go somewhere else. This story is copyrighted by it's owner and may not be copied or published elsewhere without the owners permission.
Author's note:
See Foto in the High School Section of Nifty. If you haven't read Foto then you should read it first.
Okay please note I changed my email address cuz yahoo sucks at catching spam and I'm tired of getting emails about hot girls and pussy and my dick is long enough and I don't need viagra cuz I don't do drugs of any kind. Eat right and exercise that's what I do.
This chapter is a bit short. The next chapyer will be longer
SamLakes dot writer at Gmail dot com
Raising Noah
by Sam Lakes
Copyright © 2008 All Rights Reserved
Chapter 7
<Bastian’s POV>
Dad and Michael saw us coming down the hall from Sandy’s room. I guess they were waiting to see Sandy.
“What happened?” asked Dad.
“My worst fear happened. He doesn’t remember me. He thinks Noah is his son. When he called me a faggot. Noah told him he hated him and we left. Take me home I’m never coming back.”
They took me home. I moped around for the rest of the day in my room. Dad came in at one point and we talked.
“You know it wasn’t the fact that he called me a faggot – I’ve been called that before. What hurt is that his love for me was so shallow that he didn’t even remember me. That got me to thinking was my love for him shallow too. Maybe it’s just because he’s sexy. Is love simply a physical attraction?”
“You know he may not have meant that at all. The brain is like a switchboard and because of the injury the circuits are jumbled up and cross-connected or even disconnected.”
“You can believe that if you want but I don’t – I think he only thought he loved me because he really still loves Tommy who he believes is Noah. Or rather he loves Noah because he thinks Noah is Tommy. Maybe Noah is Tommy but the thing is he should just love Noah as Noah. Even if Noah was Tommy he has a new life and he is no longer Tommy. He’s a beautiful boy called Noah.”
“I think Noah realizes that Sandy love him only because he loved Tommy. Tommy was straight and if Noah was Tommy then it’s only logical to me that Noah will be straight.”
“I love Noah because he’s Noah not some real or imagined past life buddy.”
“I love you and Michael and I am proud to be your son. The fact that Michael didn’t let us know that Sandy wanted a ride,” I sighed, “I am beginning to think – maybe it was… No, I was going to say maybe it was for the best but I don’t believe that I think I really do love Sandy. It hurts that that love is not reciprocated.”
Noah came running into the room naked, “Let’s swim, guys.”
I looked at Dad. He smiled, “You wanna race?” he asked.
“Yay! Grandpa Brian and Daddy race.”
Dad and I stripped off our clothes and went with Noah. We passed Michael on the way to the swimming pool.
“Michael come swim,” I said. So we all ended up in the pool. Dad and I raced a couple of times – he barely won each time but then I had Noah on my back.
A month later Robert Beech stopped by my locker, “Hi Bastian.”
“Hi. Sup?”
“Nothing much, I just wanted to say hi.”
“Well, you did that. How’s your brother?”
“Home now and being an asshole. I wish the old Sandy was back,” he said.
“Yeah, me too, but life goes on.”
“Do you think you could stop by and maybe we could hang out?” he asked.
“I don’t think Sandy would want to see me. So, no, but if you’d like to come over to my place you are welcome to do so.”
“It might help him to see you,” Rob said.
“Yeah, but it might also make things worse.”
“For you or him?”
“Both Rob. I love him but it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same way and never really did or he wouldn’t have spoken to me the way he did. It hurt me. It hurt Noah.” I close my locker door and went off to class.
My next class was PE. This school sucks at sports. Admittedly we lost our team captain on the basketball team because his grades dropped. The swimming team was even worse than our losing basketball team. They had come in last in every met. I suppose their coach thought it would be a great idea to pit them against the geeks in my class. Yeah I was now thought of as being not only a sweet little fag but also a geek.
If you think I have a bad attitude right now – you are so right. Rob’s request had put me into a bad mood. Not only that I was racing against Treyvon Rider ln my opinion one of the biggest homophobes in the school.
“Hey fag, I gone beat you, you know,” he said.
Wrong thing to say to me. “Coach!” I yelled.
“What McCormick,” said Coach Butterworth.
“Rider is sexually harassing me, he said he was going to beat me and I’m sorry but no one touches my dick except me!”
The Coach rolled his eyes and tried to be serious but the laughs from the others got too him and just said “McCormick just swim.”
The homophobe standing next to me I know would have like to beat the shit out of me. “Hey homo-phobe, you’re going to lose,” I said.
“Fuck you!”
“No actually I’m a top so I’ll be fucking you,” I laughed.
The coach blew his whistle which was the go signal. Rider hit the water. I looked at the coach, “Am I supposed to go?”
“Go!” replied the coach and I went. I was two lengths behind him when I started by the time he was turning around to go back I was a half a length behind him. I won the race. I was two lengths ahead of him and got out of the pool.
I looked at the coach. He didn’t say a thing. I figured he should have at least said “Good swimming”. I shook my head and said loud enough for most to hear, “Fucking pathetic, Bastian, you should have given that homo-phobe three lengths head start.”
When I got to the bench a couple of guys gave me a high five, I got nothing from Rider’s teammates. Instead of sitting down I continue on to the showers. I was even in a worse mood.
“McCormick sit on the bench class it not over,” shouted the coach.
I didn’t stop. I raised my left arm above my head and flipped him off.
“Detention, McCormick!” he shouted angrily.
I raised both my arms above my head as I read the door and flipped him off with both hands and continued on.
I knew I’d here about my defiance later in the day but at that point I was pissed. I got dressed and was out of the locker room just as the others in my PE class were coming in.
As I entered my last class of the day, AP English, my teacher told me to report to the head coach’s office. I turned in my homework and got the next assignment and left for Coach Richards’ office.
As I entered I saw Coach Butterworth.
“Have a seat Bastian,” said Coach Richards.
I sat.
“What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“What I mean is Coach Butterworth told you to sit on the bench that class wasn’t over and you refuse and continued on your way giving him the finger.”
“Did he also tell you that I gave that homophobe Richards who called me a fag a two lengths head start and I won the race by two lengths?”
“Yes he did.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say so I sat there and said nothing.
After an uncomfortable silence Coach Butterworth spoke, “What pissed you off?”
“You did. I gave Richards a head start and I still won. Basically, I beat you star swimmer by four lengths. Not one word came from you. No well done or good swim if you’d even said ‘Rider you just got by a fucking fag’ would have been better than nothing! Maybe you’re an in the closet homophobe! I don’t know! But I’m tired of people treating me like I’m a worthless piece of shit because I’m gay because I’m not worthless.”
Coach Richards looked at Coach Butterworth saying, “It’s your call. I’ve already given you my opinion.”
Coach Butterworth replied, “I’ll handle it from here. Thanks for your help.” Coach Richards nodded, got up from his desk and left the room.
“First of all, Bastian, I’m not a homophobe in the closet or out of the closet. I’m gay. I have a lover, but as far as school goes the most of the faculty know and there is no problem there. But as far as the student body goes I’m in the closet with the door open. If I say any student getting bashed verbally or physically I’d step in if the situation warranted it.”
“Yeah, I heard Rider call you a fag I would have said something but you were too quick. You came back and put him down and totally embarrassed him all he could say was a pathetic ‘fuck you’ and again you bested him.”
“Bastian, I’ve coached you in soccer. You’re good, you’re a really good teammate and the other guys know it. How many times have I asked you to join the team?”
“A gazillion,” I said with a smile.
“Right. Actually it’s a gazillion and a half. I’ve kept count. I’ve never seen you swim and we have the worst swimming team in the state. Why didn’t I say anything when you won? Shock I guess and I was trying to think what I could do to get you on the swim team.”
“As far as why none of the team didn’t high five you - think about it. They have the worst record in the city this year and their best team member just got beat by a guy who never practices. They were completely demoralized and embarrassed. They don’t look at you like you’re a piece of shit. Bastian to them you are solid gold that could take them to state.”
“Is your boyfriend cute?” I asked.
“I’d say he is a stud, but what I really want to know is will you join the team?”
“No.”
“Because of your son?”
“Mainly and I don’t think I could work with Rider.”
“He’s not a homophobic as you think. In fact I think he might be completely the opposite. He was the one that said you should be on the team.”
That definitely threw me off guard. I can’t remember even one time when he’d give me the time of day. Mind you he seemed like an arrogant SOB to everyone.
“Yeah well, my son is the main reason.”
“How about this I’ll arrange a babysitter for when we have practices and meets.”
“That’s not the problem. We need to spend time together. He needs me and I need him.”
“So what a solution?” asked Coach Butterworth.
“Make him a part of the team,” I said sort of tongue-in-cheek.
“Cool. How old is he?” asked the coach.
“Three. But don’t worry he like a fish in water. By the way, I swim almost every day and he is getting pretty good at dog paddling,” I said not expecting him to agree.
“Sort of an unusual request but heck if it gets you on the team great!”
I figured why not give it a try besides I half expect someone will veto Noah being at practice and the meets and then the deal would be off.
“So are we cool?” he asked.
“I guess. So, is there a practice today?”
“Yeah, be there,” he said smiling.
“Yeah,” I took out my cellphone,”I have to call my dad and tell him to bring Noah.”
“Great I can’t wait to meet them.”
I call Michael and told him to bring Noah and make sure to bring his Speedo and a towel. Noah and I are on the swim team. I told him Noah would be the cheerleader and assistant to the assistant coach which Michael thought was hilarious until I told him he’d be the assistant coach. Of course Coach Butterworth didn’t know it yet. Michael had coached swimming when I was little and basically coached me from time to time.
I was sitting on the bench with the rest of the team and Coach was just about to officially introduce me when he stopped mid-sentence. Everyone turned to see what he was looking at.
Walking quietly towards us was the blonde hair blue eye boy dress in his little yellow Speedo and matching flip-flops followed by Michael. I don’t know if I’ve ever said this but Michael is drop-dead gorgeous for a man of his age.
“Grandpa Mike is that man the coach?” asked Noah.
“I think so,” said Michael.
Noah walked right up to the coach stuck out his hand and introduced himself, “Hello coach, I am Noah McCormick.”
“How do you do Noah,” said the coach.
“I’m doing great! I can swim. Do you want to see?” asked Noah.
“Sure,” replied the coach.
Noah toes off his flip-flops and in one smooth action pulls off his Speedo exposing everything.
“Noah!” I shout but too late he jumped in the water. I am totally embarrassed. Of course, everyone including Michael is laughing.
I get up grab his suit. He comes to the surface and dog paddles out away from the edge.
“See I can swim,” he shouts proudly.
Every one except me are cheering him on and he’s lapping it up.
I jump in the water and go over to him. “Noah, you’re supposed to leave your Speedo on. We don’t swim naked here.”
“Okay Daddy.”
“Now you need to get out of the pool because us big guys need to practice, okay?”
“Yep.”
I lifted him out of the water and Treyvon Rider took him from me.
“There you go champ. You’re an awesome swimmer just like your daddy.” I was surprised to hear that considering our earlier encounter then what really surprised me was he offered me a hand to get out of the water. I really didn’t need it. I was quite capable of getting out of the water on my on but I accepted it. Maybe coach was right.
“Thanks.”
“Bastian, about earlier what I said, I’m sorry,” Treyvon said.
“If you think helping me out of the pool and a pathetic apology is going to make us best buds or even friends then you are deluding yourself because that ain’t gonna do it. Yes, I’m gay I’m attracted to guys not girls, but I’m also a pretty good swimmer, I have a 3.8 GPA and I’m a damn good photographer and I hope that I’m as good a dad to my son as my two dads are to me. The word ‘Fag’ or ‘Nigger’ are words that are not only offensive to me to hear they are words that I refuse to ever use. I don’t care how much I dislike someone I would never use those two words. They basically mean the same; they are meant to hurt and make a person feel like shit. So trust me I will never call you a nigger because you are not a piece of shit. You’re just a black ass son of a bitch.”
I returned to the bench. Noah came over and said, “Daddy what’s a black ass son of a bitch?”
“He is,” I said indicating Treyvon who was still standing and looking a bit sad.
“But he’s not black. He’s brown. I like him,” said Noah.
“You like everybody,” I responded.
“Yep, I’m just like you.”
I lifted Noah up and sat him in my lap. I looked over at Treyvon. He smiled and came over and sat down beside me, right up next to me. He was so close that his arm was right up against me. I pretended to ignore him.
Noah turns to him, “Hi, what’s your name?”
“Sshh, the coach is talking,” I said.
“Treyvon,” whispered Treyvon.
I turned my head and glared at him. He smiled and then made a funny face. I looked away determined that I was not going to laugh. He leaned on me. I intended to give him a dirty look but instead my humor of the best of me and I made a funny face at him which Noah saw.
Noah started jiggling – you know when you’re trying to suppress a laugh and keeping it in makes your body jiggle. That caused me to start jiggling and when Treyvon started that was it! All three of us burst out in laughter.
“McCormick! Rider! Seeing as you two can’t be bothered to pay attention, you two can hit the water and start doing laps,” said Coach Butterworth.
“Hey Coach he started it,” said Treyvon half laughing.
“I did not! He made a funny face at me!” I said, but actually it was Noah’s fault!”
“Ugh-uh,” piped up Noah, “You made a funny face at Treyvon.”
“Guys! That’s it!” shouted Michael, “Hit the water – all three of you.”
I noticed Coach Butterworth looked surprised that Michael included Noah.
“Noah, you will ride on your Daddy’s back for one lap and then ride on Treyvon back for one lap until Coach Butterworth decides you’ve done enough laps,” said Michael.
“Yippee,” yelled Noah.
“Come on scampi,” I said to Noah as I picked him up and tossed him in the water and followed him into the water.
We spent the whole of practice doing laps. Noah thought it was great. I think Treyvon was exhausted and I know I was.
Michael offered our place for a Saturday practice and barbecue. He would arrange transportation for anyone who needed it. No doubt Dad’s company limo was going to be in use.
Friday morning Treyvon was waiting by my locker. He had a sad smile on his face. By that I mean the face of a person who is forcing themselves to look happy when their world is crashing in on them.
“Hey Treyvon, sup?” I asked.
“I won’t be at the practice on Saturday. I’ve already told coach. I just wanted you to tell your Dad. I can’t be there,” he said.
“Why not?”
“My parents are visiting my uncle and they don’t like me being alone,” he said.
“Do you want to go to your uncle’s?”
“Not really. I mean I like my uncle but I don’t get along with my cousins.”
“Good then it’s settled. You’ll spend the weekend with us. We’ve got plenty of room and you will have your own room. Noah will be happy. And so will I because then you can answer all his questions about brown people,” I said with a smile.
Comments welcomed -