Apologies for the massive delay! Here's chapter 2 for Jared's story, hope you enjoy. Usual warnings apply; if you're underage, or if you're from somewhere where access to this kind of material is illegal, stop reading NOW.
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CHAPTER 2
"Wake up, beautiful," someone whispered in Jared's ear. He opened his eyes groggily and saw a pair of dark brown eyes hovering an inch above his face.
"What the--" Alarmed, Jared sat up suddenly, and smashed his face head on into the brown eyed person. "Ow!" they both howled in pain. Jared rocked back and forth rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. He looked over and saw his best friend, Isaac "Isa'ako" Evan, sitting on the edge of his bed rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Fucker," said Jared, pushing Isaac off the bed with his foot. A hearty laugh issued from the floor.
"What the hell do you want? It's bloody early... and I was having such a good dream," said Jared sleepily, closing his eyes and flopping back down onto his bed. He had been having a dream involving him and someone naked who seemed to alternate faces between Mr. Daniels and Branson.
Isaac sat up and unnecessarily smoothed back his perfectly combed hair, then smiled, showing brilliantly white teeth. "Early? Dude, it's almost 12pm. You missed your rounds this morning."
Jared eyes flew open. "Are you serious?"
"Nope."
"SHIT!" Jared swore loudly, sitting up in panic, the sleep ebbing away.
Prefects were assigned duties, and part of his was to check the rooms in his dorm every morning to see if all the students were accounted for, and then make sure they were ready for morning mass.
Prefect duties were heavily monitored by the Deputy Headmaster, Mr. Webster, which earned them extra credit. But Jared wasn't too worried about extra credit.
He had his sights set on something else. Something better.
He was aiming to capture one of the two most prestigious awards given out by the school annually; Student of the Year, and Service to the School. It was widely known that the candidates of the awards were almost always from the Student Leadership, and he heard from reliable sources that his name was definitely on the candidate list. Missing his prefect duties, even once, didn't bode well for him. To say the awards were competitive would be an understatement. When he first started, he heard from a senior that a student actually committed suicide when he missed out on an award. He didn't know if it was true, but he wouldn't have been surprised if it was. The awards were cutthroat.
Armed with his impressive academic transcript, and either one of the awards, he could be guaranteed a place at any one of the top universities of his choice. Both awards came with a full four year scholarship to any university of the student's choosing, a personal letter of recommendation from the Headmaster himself, as well as an internship catered to the winning student's area of interest.
"Shit! I need to see Mr. Webster!" he said, with voice rising as he jumped out of bed. What good excuse should I give, his mind raced, as he began rummaging through his drawers for clean clothes.
Isaac looked at him laughing, "Whoa cowboy, calm down."
"Huh?" grunted Jared distractedly, hopping with one leg across the room while attempting to shove the other through a pair of clean pants.
"Don't sweat it, Mr. Daniels covered for you. I came to wake you earlier but he told me you weren't feeling very well. He said no one should disturb you. Apparently he also made your excuses to Mr. Webster."
Jared turned sharply in confusion and in the process lost his footing. He fell to the floor with a loud thud. His head shot up, looking at Isaac to see if he was, by any chance, joking.
"Yeah, that's what he said this morning," Isaac confirmed. "He's in class right now so thought I'd sneak in to see if you're okay. You don't really look sick, if you ask me," he said suspiciously.
Jared slowly got up, untangling his leg from his pants. "Are you messing with me?"
"Why in the world would I be messing with you? You have such little faith in me," said Isaac loudly.
"Only because you want to ruin my chances of getting one of the awards... and you happen to be my competition," said Jared matter-of-factly. "One mustn't forget that you're one of the four prefects from this dorm who's in the running for the awards."
Isaac cracked up laughing again. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But Mr. Daniels really did make your excuses though. What's up with that?"
Jared slowly sat on the edge of his bed, his mind racing again. Mr. Daniels letting him off earlier for sneaking out was one thing, but now he's making excuses for him? How... odd. But as odd as it was, he was for some reason feeling... good about it.
Jared looked over and saw Isaac eyeing him, waiting expectantly for a reply. He slowly began coughing with some exaggeration. "Yeah... I, uh... wasn't feeling very well last night. I was.. ahem... on my way to the bathroom early this morning when I ran into Mr. Daniels. I guess he saw how sick I was," he said with a straight face. But come to think of it, he really wasn't feeling well. Despite the chilly room, cold perspiration was running down his forehead; he felt cold and clammy. Walking home from Branson's place last night in the extreme cold wasn't a very smart idea.
"Riiiiiight... in any case, no biggie, really. I mean it's only a weekday. It's not like it's a full on day of classes or anything," said Isaac in mock seriousness. But his face suddenly lit up, and sarcasm disappeared from his voice as he asked, "But hey... since we're both here, let's sneak down to the village and have a pint? I've been dying for a drink!"
"No way! I'm sick, remember? I can't go frolicking around outside... and it's a bloody Wednesday!" replied Jared, exasperation in his voice as he lay back down on his bed. "Why aren't you in class anyway?"
Isaac shrugged noncommittally. "Can't a guy come check on his best friend?"
Jared shook his head. "I don't get you. You want one of the awards as bad as I do, and you also plan to get into Harvard... yet you have the habit of skipping class. I honestly don't know how you're getting your A's."
Isaac smiled, showing his dazzlingly white teeth again. "Because I'm brilliant. And who needs to attend class when one is brilliant?"
Jared only raised an eyebrow in response.
His mind drifted back to Mr. Daniels. No doubt Mr. Daniels knew he was tired since he was out all night. But that was his problem, really, and Mr. Daniels didn't need to cover for him. He had already done him a monumental favour by letting him off in the first place. Plus there was nothing to be gained by Mr. Daniels covering for him, or at least anything he could think of.
"I guess I'm left with no choice but to join you in bed," Isaac said brightly, interrupting his train of thought as he hopped into bed. "Maybe I'll catch whatever you have and won't have to do any work tomorrow."
Jared smiled, and scooted to make space for Isaac. His best friend was, without a doubt, straight. But so secure was he in his sexuality, he never have any qualms when it came to personal space with other guys.
Jared never got around to telling Isaac he actually liked men, but he knew that Isaac was the kind of friend who wouldn't have cared if he knew. But Jared didn't want to make an issue out of his sexuality and preferred not to talk about it. He liked the current status quo. But at the same time he was dying to confide in someone about Branson, as well as his feelings for Mr. Daniels. Maybe he should consider telling Isaac about it.
Isaac propped himself on his arm. As if he could read Jared's thoughts, he suddenly said, "I have a feeling you're hiding something from me."
"Oh? Like what, pray tell?" said Jared taken aback, looking over to his friend.
"I don't know... which is why I'm asking. I can't seem to put my finger on it... but you seem happier somehow. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were seeing someone."
"I don't know what you're on about," said Jared evasively, looking away. Isaac sometimes could be quite contradictory. How was it possible for someone to be so generally oblivious, and yet so perceptive at the same time, Jared wondered.
"If you say so. So long as you're not sneaking off to St. Mary's to see Patricia," said Isaac, suspicion edging back into his voice. Patricia was Isaac's crush who studied at St. Mary's, their sister school located on the other side of the village.
Jared started cracking up.
"Why are you laughing? You think you're so good looking, eh? Geezus, leave some ladies for the rest of us," admonished Isaac somewhat seriously.
"Oh get off it, you're quite pretty yourself," replied Jared, nudging Isaac playfully. He looked over and studied his friend carefully. Isaac was incredibly brown and also incredibly good looking. He was part Samoan ("Samoan, not Somalian -- you know -- like The Rock? Dwayne Johnson?" as he'd always remind Jared) from his dad's side, and inherited his broad nose, brown eyes, and solid build, as well as his English mother's high cheekbones and wide easy smile. But despite his genuine good looks, he knew how unaware Isaac was of this fact, all because of his constant battle with acne.
"You can stop lying to me, you're not doing me any favours," said Isaac, his tone deflated. "If I could just... get rid of these horrid pimples..." he lamented, as he squeezed a particularly large one on his forehead.
Jared rolled his eyes. "For Chrissake, are you a girl?! Only they worry about gawddamn acne. You look fine. In fact, if you stopped swimming in your puddle of self-pity for a minute, maybe then you'd notice how girls check you out whenever we're in the village."
"You're just saying that..."
"Oh my God, I swear you're turning into a bloody woman. Shall I pop out and buy you some tampons? You know, in case you start to menstruate?" said Jared in irritation. "I'm being serious, you look fine. In fact, more than fine. You look great."
"Awww, thanks honey," said Isaac, cheering up again. "Nothing like hearing another guy tell you how sexy you are to make it all better."
"Sometimes I think we have these conversations just to serve your vanity," replied Jared, his irritation disappearing.
Isaac was about to reply when there was a brisk knock on the door. "May I come in?" an authoritative voice spoke.
It was Isaac's turn to panic. "Shit, shit, shit," he whispered, clambering out of bed, yet failing, and falling to the floor instead.
Whoever was at the door didn't wait for a reply. It swung open, and, (speak of the devil, Jared thought) in walked Mr. Webster, a huge burly man with a balding head and bushy eyebrows, who's heavy frame almost dwarfed the room.
"Good afternoon, sir," both Jared and Isaac said in unison.
Mr. Webster homed in on Isaac. "Mr. Evan, why are you not in class?"
"S-Sorry, sir... I, uh... I was worried about, Jared," Isaac gulped as he stuttered, quickly getting to his feet. "I... well... yes, I was worried about him and thought I'd just pop in to see if he was okay."
"I see," said Mr. Webster curtly. "And?"
Isaac gulped again. "And... he seems... like he's feeling much better."
"Well, isn't that a relief?" said Mr. Webster in a voice that suggested otherwise. "But skipping class is inexcusable. You're a Prefect -- and a senior -- I expect better decision making from you." Mr. Webster bristled as he stood by the door, looking sternly at Isaac, before he finally said, "You'll be monitoring my after school detention for the rest of the week as punishment."
"Yes sir," said Isaac, and with eyes averted, he half ran out of the room.
Jared winced as Mr. Webster rounded on him. "Mr. Jared Patterson, I heard you had taken ill." Mr. Webster approached closer and studied him carefully.
Jared nodded weakly and held his breath.
Mr. Webster reached down and felt Jared's forehead. The room stood still for a few seconds; Jared was almost certain Mr. Webster could hear his pounding heart.
"Warm," Mr. Webster finally said aloud, more to himself than to Jared. His tone changed instantaneously into a warm tone as he said, "Yes, you do look under the weather, Mr. Patterson. And no surprise, really, we've been having such nasty weather."
Jared exhaled. "Yes, Mr. Webster, nasty weather indeed," he readily agreed.
"I'll send Nurse Figgin up to see you, but I'm sure you'll be up and about in no time. Nothing a decent rest and some good food won't cure," said Mr. Webster, clapping a thick comforting hand on Jared's shoulder, "But if you end up feeling worse, please don't hesitate to send someone to fetch me or Nurse Figgin." With that, he strode out of the room, and closed the door after him with a loud slam.
Just as Jared lay back down, relieved, the door swung open again. He quickly sat up as Mr. Webster poked his head back in.
"I forgot to say. I shall send Mr. Evan up sometime later with food and notes for your missed classes. Your body may be ill, but not your brain. I trust your notes will make for productive reading while you wait to feel better," said Mr. Webster, before retreating again.
"Yessir, and thank you sir--" Jared didn't get to finish before the door slammed again. So much for rest.
Regardless, Jared smiled. This day went better than expected!
He lay in bed for the longest time marvelling at his luck. But then again, it wasn't really luck, but Mr. Daniels who had helped him... twice in one day!
Jared resolved to go see Mr. Daniels at some stage in the evening and thank him. If there was a shred of doubt in his mind about how he felt towards Mr. Daniels, it was all but erased. He couldn't help but feel that familiar warm feeling enveloping his body once again thinking about him.
He couldn't get past the fact that Mr. Daniels, a normally strict instructor, without any clear reason as to why, had twice in one day gotten him off the hook. And even though it was a mystery as to why Mr. Daniels had bothered at all, it still made him infinitely thrilled imagining the possibilities. Maybe he harbours some feelings for me, he wildly fantasized. Maybe he wants me so bad he's doing favours for me as his way of hinting his intentions... or... maybe he wants to keep me close by because he can't bear the idea of me getting expelled. His mind continued to fantasize of all manner of scenarios. After being checked by Nurse Figgins, (a plump kind faced woman who fussed over him, all the while clucking like a mother hen), he fell into a deep sleep, his dreams this time focused solely on the delectable Mr. Daniels, and not on anyone else. ****
Jared awoke to the sounds of muffled giggles coming from the hallway. He looked at his watch and saw it was late in the afternoon. Classes for the day were over, and students and teachers should all be down in the dining hall having dinner. Then why the bloody hell are students outside in the hallway? Still feeling tired, and annoyed that his dreams were once again disturbed, he got up and made his way to his door.
He opened it a fraction to find four freshmen sitting along the opposite wall, crowding around a magazine, laughing and pointing at one of the pages.
"Oy!" he yelled, throwing his door open, "Keep your bloody voices down, some of us want some peace and quiet!"
The boys ceased immediately, and looked up at Jared in fear. One of the boys hastily stuffed the magazine behind his back, and Jared saw a flash of what looked suspiciously like a naked woman on the cover.
"Sorry, Jared, we didn't think anyone would be here.. w-we thought everyone was in the dining hall for dinner," one of the boys piped up in an unnaturally high pitched voice.
"What do you have behind your back?" Jared asked the boy who had the magazine, as he walked over.
"N-nothing..." said the boy, his voice quivering nervously.
"I'm going to ask one more time... what do you have behind your back?" Jared's voice was low and quiet.
"Just... just a magazine," said the boy, looking nervously at the others, "...but...but it's not mine!"
"I don't care who owns it. Hand it over now." The boy slowly took the magazine from behind his back, and with hand shaking, handed it over to Jared.
Jared grabbed the magazine. On the cover was a scantily clad woman, with unnaturally large breasts, staring demurely back at him. "My, my, my... what do we have here?" he said, his voice silky smooth. He looked at the boys, and they quickly looked away, not meeting his hard gaze. "How disappointing... I don't need to tell you that possession of pornography by students is not allowed. This is the kind of stuff that gets you expelled... do you want to be expelled?"
The boys all muttered, "No."
"I didn't think so... yet... here I am holding this piece of filth. And, by filth, I really mean filth," said Jared, noticing what suspiciously looked like dry cum stains on the pages as he flipped through it. He rolled it up in disgust and put it in his back pocket.
"I'll have to report you all to Mr. Webster."
"Please don't tell on us, Jared, please... we'll do anything!" one of the boys begged. "Yes, please, Jared..." the other boys joined in.
The awards flashed in Jared's mind. These were the kind of situations where he had to be honest with his prefect duties, especially if he wanted to get one of the awards. But he was also mindful of how much of a hypocrite he was, and how he broke school rules hours earlier without much thought to the consequences. In fact, he'd been breaking school rules continuously by sneaking out the past few days. And he would've been in serious shit if Mr. Daniels didn't let him off the hook.
But it would also reflect badly on their dorm, as well as their dorm leadership, if the boys were turned in for stashing porn. It would be a no win situation for everybody. It was a point of pride for their dorm, the Marc Ellis Hall of Residency, that they had an impeccable record of upholding the school honour system, as well as the fact that they had produced the most illustrious alumni in all the school's history compared to the school's other dorms. Catching their students with porn was not good for their dorm's reputation.
Maybe there was a lesson to be learnt here about mercy. Maybe he should make this a learning moment for the boys, instead of blowing it out of proportion by reporting them.
"You," barked Jared, looking at the boy who had the magazine. "'The quality of mercy is not strained'... what comes after that?"
The boy looked around flustered... "Oh... uh.... It droppeth... uh... as the gentle rain from heaven--"
"You," Jared barked again, nodding to the other boy. "What comes after that?"
"'...upon the place beneath... it is twice blessed--'"
"Now you," interrupted Jared, nodding to the next boy.
"'....it blesseth... uh-mm... blesseth him that gives... and him that takes."
Jared rounded to the fourth boy, who seemed to shrink in fear. "And who wrote these wise words, and for what play?"
There was a moment of silence before the boy spoke, "The Merchant of Venice by... S-shakespeare. Those words were spoken by the character Portia."
Jared lips curved involuntarily into a smile. "Indeed... let's assume you know the rest of the speech by Portia, can one of you tell me what she might have meant by those words?"
The boys started whispering amongst themselves. Finally, the boy who had the magazine answered, "I think she meant that... while mercy is something she cannot demand, it would be in the interests of both her and... umm... Shylock, if... if she was shown mercy...."
"Very good. How do you think it applies to this situation?"
The boy spoke again, "We can't demand you show us mercy... but... it would be in our interest, as well as yours... if you do?"
"Yes, it would be indeed. I can turn you boys in, and have you all face the possibility of expulsion. You already know how Mr. Webster has zero tolerance for this kind of rule breaking... which is why I'm amazed at the level of stupidity shown here. Forget for a moment that possession of porn is strictly forbidden. What gets me is that, here you all were sitting in the hallway flipping through it, where anyone could've walked by and caught you all! What do you have to say for yourselves?"
"We're... we're really sorry Jared, we really didn't think..." one of the boys mumbled, eyes averted again.
"And so you should be sorry," said Jared bracingly. His voice suddenly softened, "But... it wouldn't reflect very well on this dorm and its leadership for our students to be caught with porn, and face the possibility of expulsion. So... I'm letting this go... but only this once. Do not let me catch any one of you again breaking school rules, do you hear me?"
The boys breathed sighs of relief. "Yes Jared, we promise! We're so sorry once again..."
"Now one of you go to the dining hall and fetch me some food. Now," said Jared, his voice turning hard once again as he strode back into his room. He wondered if Mr. Webster forgot to tell Isaac to bring him food... he was starved!
Once the door closed, he smiled to himself. He thought he handled the situation perfectly well.
What Jared didn't know was that Mr. Daniels, who had come up to speak to him and also brought food, had hidden further down the hallway when he heard the commotion. He witnessed the whole exchange. ****
There was a tentative knock on the door. "Hello?"
Probably one of the boys with food. That was fast. Jared, who had just sat down at his desk, pushed his unopened Calculus textbook away. He thought he'd start on some assignments, but his mind was elsewhere. Plus he was too cold to do any work. Despite having the heater on, the wintry chill still managed to permeate the thick stone walls. He stretched and called out, "Come in."
In walked Mr. Daniels, preceded by a tray of food.
"Mr. Daniels!" said Jared, jumping up and clumsily knocking his chair backwards. He bent down to pick it up, whispering under his breath, "Damn." Can he be any more awkward?
Mr. Daniels smiled warmly, walked over, and set the tray of food carefully on the edge of his desk, and asked, "How are you feeling?"
"Oh... I, uh... I'm okay... I mean, I'm feeling fine, thanks, sir," said Jared, tripping over his words.
"I thought you might like some food," said Mr. Daniels, his smile encouraging, as he sat on the edge of Jared's bed.
"Thank you sir, you really didn't have to..." said Jared shyly.
"No problem at all, I'm sure you must be hungry."
"Yes... I won't lie, I'm famished," replied Jared, trying to get a grip of his senses. Mr. Daniels looked devastatingly handsome, he had trouble gathering his thoughts. He swallowed with difficulty, his mouth suddenly dry.
"I wanted a word with you. I hope you didn't mind too much, I took the liberty of giving you the day off. After your--" Mr. Daniels paused thoughtfully -- "evening escapade in last night's bad weather, I was sure you wouldn't feel well today. Turns out I was right." His eyes took in Jared's features carefully. "You don't look too good."
Jared launched into a speech. "Thanks so much sir, I really, really appreciate you covering for me today. Once again, I'm so sorry for my thoughtless actions... sneaking out and everything... I'm also sorry you were put in an uncomfortable position where you felt you had to cover for me. You really didn't have to, but I'm grateful all the same..."
"No harm done, I do hope you're feeling better though," said Mr. Daniels, his smile unwavering. "Well... go on, have something to eat!"
Jared felt his stomach tighten. He felt so self-conscious, and very nervous for some reason, even though Mr. Daniels was being genuinely nice. He picked up the fork and started pushing food around on the tray.
"So... Shakespeare, huh?" said Mr Daniels quietly.
Jared dropped his fork, and it clattered loudly on the tray. He looked at Mr. Daniels speechless.
Mr. Daniels smile broadened. "Very nicely handled. It's good to know students are paying attention in my classes."
Jared's mouth opened and closed wordlessly, unsure of what to say. He finally choked out, "You... you saw that?"
"Yes, I did. And I think you handled the situation like... well, like an adult," said Mr. Daniels carefully, "It's understandable for young boys to be curious, and it wouldn't seem right for those boys to face expulsion for satiating that curiosity, at least for something boys are naturally interested in at that age. God knows this school doesn't teach anything related to the opposite sex... the school curriculum would arm you boys well with the hardships of the outside world, but I doubt any of you would fare well with women... especially since you hardly have any interactions with them, this being an all-boys school and all."
Jared nodded agreeingly, and unsure of what to say, picked up his fork again.
"Ah, I've made you uncomfortable. My apologies," said Mr. Daniels.
"No, not at all!" Jared quickly interjected. "I'm not used to teachers speaking so openly about --" Jared squirmed, not wanting to say 'sex', "-- anything, really. It's refreshing to have a... candid conversation with a teacher."
"I suppose that's true. I still remember my own teachers when I was in college, to say they were unfriendly would be an understatement," said Mr. Daniels, beginning to chuckle.
Jared melted. Hearing Mr. Daniels laugh was so endearing, he felt his heart do summersaults in his chest. He smiled idiotically in return and tried to think of something intelligent to say. "But then I guess to be fair, teachers have to maintain a certain degree of space between them and their students, huh? It's hard for students to respect teachers they're chummy with, I suppose." The words rolled off Jared's tongue before he could fully consider what he was saying. He panicked and added, "Not that I don't respect you, or anything Mr. Daniels, coz I do -- I mean, not that we're being chummy or anything -- uh, what I mean to say--" God, can I sound anymore idiotic?
Mr. Daniels laughed. "I don't think that's entirely true. I guess it depends on each teacher's style of educating... but I've come across teachers who're pretty close to their students, who treat them as their own, and still find that their students have a lot of respect for them. So you don't have to be necessarily hard on students to garner their respect, I think."
"Oh yes, definitely," Jared readily agreed.
"But I suppose it's a bit different here in St. James College. It's one of the top schools in the country, so there's a measure of severity when it comes to the style of education here... but only because the school has to maintain their spotless record of producing some of the most intelligent minds this country has ever seen."
"Hmm, so you think there's a correlation between teachers being hard on students, and student success rates?" asked Jared jokingly, trying to find his groove in the conversation.
Mr. Daniels seriously considered this. "Well, it's hard to say -- I don't think this school has trialled other styles of teaching, so I can't say for sure... but... I do think there is some correlation, yes."
"Post hoc ergo propter hoc," said Jared, his voice light, but his mind working overtime to try and think of something to say to leave an impression on Mr. Daniels. "Just because teachers are hard on students here doesn't necessarily mean it's the reason we've produced an illustrious alumni. Maybe if teachers loosened up a bit, who knows? Maybe our students would be even more successful."
Mr. Daniels face cracked into a wide grin. "And maybe it wouldn't... which is why the school is set in its ways, it seems," he said, crossing his legs lazily, a movement that didn't go unnoticed, as Jared's eyes quickly darted down to see the generous package between his legs. "Why fix something that isn't broken? And I see your Latin is up to scratch. I'm impressed."
"Thanks," said Jared, feeling his cheeks flushing, both from the compliment and from seeing Mr. Daniel's mouth-watering bulge. He could feel himself getting hard, so he mirrored Mr. Daniels movement, and crossed his legs too.
"So you'd prefer we have a laissez-faire approach to teaching students?"
"No, not at all. You know I'm only kidding, right?" said Jared, beginning to laugh nervously, putting his fork down and placing both his hands on his lap as his hard-on pressed uncomfortably against his pants. "If people like yourself and Mr. Webster weren't on our case non-stop, I don't think any of us would take our studies seriously."
"I'm glad you feel that way," said Mr. Daniels, "If you were being serious, I would've had to evaluate my teaching methods."
Jared beamed.
Mr. Daniels smile slowly faded. He coughed and uncrossed his legs. "Listen, I also wanted to talk to you about something else... it's... a bit of a delicate topic, but I would feel I've failed you if I didn't bring it up."
Jared' clasped his hands together, his smile fading too. This doesn't sound promising.
"Nothing too alarming," added Mr. Daniels, seeing the look on Jared's face. "I just wanted to talk to you about your - ahem - activities the last few days."
Jared was about to launch into another apology when Mr. Daniels stopped him. "Don't apologize... I just wanted to talk to you about it," he said calmly. "Now, I won't ask you what you've been up to, although I can only imagine... but, I wanted to know if you're taking the necessary precautions."
Jared started squirming uncomfortably.
Mr. Daniels smile flashed again. "It's very important for you to be as prepared as possible. I know you're a responsible young man, but it's imperative for me to articulate your responsibilities, not only to yourself, but also to... well, your partner, for my own peace of mind."
"Mr. Daniels, I--"
"Now, now... let me finish first. At your age, even if you're the smartest kid in class, your hormones can do funny things. When you're--" Mr. Daniels paused thoughtfully, trying to think of the right words, "-- in the mood, sometimes your brain stops functioning the way it should. And you do things that, upon hindsight, you realize was a mistake... or you could've handled better. Some of these mistakes end up with boys your age having babies. This happens often at an time when you should be planning your future, and not have to worry about the responsibilities that come with having a kid. So you need to be careful... don't get me wrong, having a kid is a blessing, but at your age, you need to know it's not the wisest idea to raise one when you don't have the means to. I've had friends who've had high aspirations in their life, and have had to give up on those aspirations because of poor decision making in their youth. You're an exceptional student who has a bright future ahead of you, I'd feel disappointed if you didn't reach your full potential because of a slip up," Mr. Daniels said tactfully. "And it's not just you... you also need to think about the girl you're seeing, since the same thing would apply to her too."
Jared realized the irony of the situation. He was into guys, so such a situation would never happen. But he would have to take precautions anyway since he didn't want to catch STD's.
As if he could read his mind, Mr. Daniels added, "That aside, you also need to think of the possibilities of sexually transmitted diseases. Taking precautions ensures you are protected. And I know, protection can really kill the mood... but hey, on the bright side... once you find that someone special, someone whom you can totally trust -- hopefully when you're much older -- then I think you can do away with protection. That's really all I wanted to say... do you have any questions?"
Jared sat there, still squirming uncomfortably. "No sir, no questions at all. I've been very careful."
"Okay, that's all I wanted to hear. But if you do have any questions, or if you just want to talk, please don't hesitate to come see me... that's what I'm here for," said Mr. Daniels encouragingly.
"Thanks sir, I really do appreciate it," said Jared in a quiet voice, grateful his hard-on had subsided.
"Okay, glad to hear it. So I'll leave you with this too," said Mr. Daniels, pulling out a packet of condoms from his back pocket and putting it on the bed. "We shouldn't be handing these out to students since the school advocates abstinence, but I'd rather students be prepared. Boys, of course, will always be boys. I'd appreciate if you didn't mention it to anyone."
There was a quiet silence, before Mr. Daniels finally stood. "Now that that awkward conversation is out of the way, I should probably get going," he said.
Jared stood too, nodding, even though he wanted nothing more than for Mr. Daniels to stay and talk forever, even if it was about unprotected sex. "Thanks again, Mr. Daniels. For everything... for today, and the food... and the chat too... this was nice," he said, scratching the back of his head shyly. It wasn't much of a chat, but it was something. He knew that as soon as Mr. Daniels left, he was probably going to spend the next few hours replaying this small conversation in his head, and analyze each meaningless word. And when he was done, he was going to fantasize endlessly about Mr. Daniels heartbreakingly gorgeous smile, his generous package, and jerk a load off in the process. Pity him and Mr. Daniels couldn't test out one of the condoms.
Mr. Daniels reached his hand out for a shake, and Jared took it in return. The shake was brief, but Jared felt an electric spasm of awareness shoot up his arm, making the moment last longer than it seemed. With that, Mr. Daniels turned around and left, closing the door softly behind him. Jared stood in the middle of his room unmoving, his eyes trained on the door... his mind once again racing, aided by the faint yet heady smell of Mr. Daniels' cologne. He stood for a few minutes thinking about their brief encounter. A stupid grin spread across his face, until he finally sat down, and began wolfing down his meal hungrily.
Knowing he was never going to do any work in his room, he picked up his books and planned to make his way to the Shauffausen Chambers, the Prefects' common room. Just as he was walking out the door, the boy who had the magazine earlier was hurrying towards him, balancing a tray generously loaded with food in one hand, and a pitcher of juice in the other. "Sorry Jared, I got held up in the dining hall. Mr. Fletcher wouldn't let me come up, even after I told him it was for a sick student. Mr. Webster overheard and said it was okay... he told me to tell you he forgot to send Isaac up, he sends his apologies," the boy said in a nervous rush.
"I already ate," said Jared simply.
"Oh... what should I do with this?" the boy asked, looking at the food he brought up, trying to catch his breath.
Jared felt bad. He probably sounded like an asshole. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked kindly. He was in an exceptionally good mood after seeing Mr. Daniels. The boy shook his head slowly. "Well, why don't you come to the Shauffausen Chambers with me and have something to eat?"
The boy looked at him timidly. "I... I'm not -- I don't think I'd be allowed."
"Don't be silly, come along," said Jared, grabbing the pitcher from the boy. He then turned around and made his way down the hallway.
The faces in the old paintings lining the walls stared unnervingly at them as they walked past, the evening glow making them appear more sinister than they really were. They turned left at the end of the hallway, then made their way towards the grand staircase, where students had begun climbing to make their way back to their dorms. Many said hello to Jared by name as if they knew him well, and he only nodded back in acknowledgement, not wanting to give away the fact that he didn't know the name of anybody who just walked past. The boy followed silently behind him, as they made their way down the grand staircase and into the Fisher Building's spacious foyer, past statues and glass cases holding trophies and old photographs of past high achieving students, until they made their way into another hallway to the left of the foyer. Jared pulled out his set of keys, and opened the first door on the right of the hallway. He nodded for the boy to enter, then followed, shutting the door behind him.
"Wow... just... wow," the boy said in awe. The chamber was huge, and painted in alternating hues of light forest greens and dark coffee brown. The room itself was tastefully decorated with various pot plants, a selection of oil paintings, with blood red drapes hanging from the windows, and beautifully crafted wooden bookshelves lining the walls. The room was also filled with comfy chaise lounges, with little coffee tables, and even foot rests, tactically set around them. At the end of the room were personal study cubicles with computers, and small bookshelves attached, which were lined with frequently used study references. Adjacent the study cubicles was a kitchenette, with a fridge, coffee making facilities, and a water dispenser. A single circular staircase spiralled up into a second landing, with more bookshelves taking most of the space, and small tables put up against the railing that ran the length of the room.
In the centre of the chamber was a long, and brilliantly wrought marble table, with exactly twelve chairs set around it.
"Welcome to the prefect common room," said Jared, as he set his books and the pitcher on the table. The boy followed suit, and slowly put the tray of food down, his eyes still roving the room taking in its splendour.
The boy finally looked at the table, almost afraid to sit down.
"Have a sit," Jared prompted.
The boy cautiously sat down. "This is... amazing!" the boy breathed finally, excitement in his voice. His hand traced along the table, feeling its cold smoothness. "I've never been in here before... I'd love to be a prefect just to come relax in here."
Jared laughed. "Yeah, I know, but the novelty eventually wears off."
"It would never wear off for me, I can tell you that for sure," the boy said enthusiastically.
"You say that now, but when you're forced to endure the dull prefect meetings we have in here, you'd never want to come back," said Jared.
"Oh, so this is where you have prefect meetings too?" the boy asked.
"Yeah, every bloomin' week. You, my friend, are sitting at the table where some of St. Joseph's most notable graduates once sat as Prefects... this is where some of our country's past Prime Ministers got their first start in Politics."
"Wow," said the boy, awe creeping back into his voice. "So wait -- there are only twelve prefects?" the boy asked, counting the chairs. "I always thought there was more."
"Nope, just twelve. Well, eleven, really, plus the Head Boy, which makes twelve. As you know, there are three Halls of Residences... the Marc Ellis Hall, the Joseph Gray Hall, and the William Nelson Hall... and each hall has four prefects," Jared explained. "And the whole twelve make up the student council, see?"
"I see... Must be nice being a part of something important. Do you get along with all the other prefects?" the boy asked innocently.
Jared laughed again. "Not all of them, no. I get along with the guys from our dorm, as well as from the Joseph Gray Hall... but we hardly get along with the guys from the William Nelson Hall."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Where do I even begin? But never you mind," said Jared dismissively.
"Isn't the Head Boy Preston McLean from William Nelson Hall?" the boy asked, undeterred.
Anger flared in Jared's eyes. He didn't get along with Preston at all. He couldn't believe it when he was named Head Boy. He wasn't jealous, not one bit of iota. He just knew what a manipulative, self-righteous, and unusually mean-spirited person Preston was. It's a pity the school staff couldn't see past his slick and fake friendly guise. "Yeah, that git is in the Willie Nelson Hall," he finally said.
"I see... well, if it counts for anything, we were rooting for you. We were surprised you didn't make Head Boy," the boy said genuinely. "And... I hope you don't think I'm speaking out of place... but Preston is an asshole. He's so... cruel."
"Yeah, you're preaching to the choir," said Jared, smiling at the boys frank honesty. "You can tell the true measure of a man by how he treats his inferiors, not his equals." The boy nodded sagely. "Where's that from?" asked Jared with narrowed eyes.
"Harry Potter, obviously," the boy answered quickly.
Jared grinned and nodded. He suddenly realized he didn't know the boy's name. "Hey, what's your name again?"
"Thomas. My name is Thomas," the boy said, in almost a whisper.
"Hi Thomas, I'm Jared," he said, reaching out his hand. "Nice to meet you... properly."
"Of course I know who you are... everybody knows who you are!" said Thomas in admiration. He couldn't believe he was sitting here, casually chatting to a prefect... and not just any prefect! Jared Patterson, the handsome and enigmatic senior, was not only one of the top students in the school academically, but he was undoubtedly an exceptional sportsman too. If his academic career didn't pan out, he really didn't have to worry, Thomas thought; he could just get a sports scholarship easily considering his prowess on both the rugby and track fields. "You're so popular, I can't believe I'm sitting here chatting to you," Thomas blurted out.
"Me? Popular? Get out of here..." said Jared laughingly. He never thought of himself as popular. Maybe well-liked, but not popular.
"Yes, you are," Thomas insisted. "You're good looking, smart, and a hell of a rugby player too... it's no secret St. Joseph's won the Inter-school Rugby Championships three years in a row because of you -- by the way, your winning try against King's College in the last minutes of last year's finals, was one for the books! And I don't need to tell you that you're the current record holder for the Champ of Champs Inter-school Sports Competition for the 100 meter, 400 meter and 800 hundred meter races, for both the junior and senior divisions... records that, prior to that, hadn't been broken in over thirty years," he said breathlessly. But he wasn't finished. "And did I mention smart? In the CNEA exams last year you ranked 6th in the whole country... from a pool of over ten thousand students who took that exam. I mean, have you taken the time to fully wrap your mind around that? From over ten thousand students who took the CNEA exams, you casually placed 6th! And let's not forget that ever since you've started at St. Joseph's, you've consistently placed in the top three in your class... trust me, popular doesn't even begin to describe you... you're fast becoming a walking legend in these halls," Thomas finished, a manic glint in his eyes.
Jared sat there stunned. He couldn't make up his mind whether he was stunned that a junior knew that much about him, or that... a junior knew that much about him. Yeah, all right, he did all that. It was a piece of cake. But those aren't really achievements if at the time he didn't feel challenged... right?
"Okay, that was... a bit disturbing. How in the hell do you know all that?" said Jared incredulously.
"Everybody knows your record!"
"Bullshit."
"No, seriously," said Thomas earnestly. "Our teachers keep referring to you and Preston as templates of student success." Noting the questioning look on Jared's face, he explained, "Don't you know? Teachers often quote you and Preston's intimidating academic and sporting records in class... to inspire us, I suppose. But, if you ask me, it just makes us feel rather inadequate."
Jared mind started spinning. Him? Preston? Templates of success? Really? Despite this gratifying revelation, he didn't like the fact that his name was used in the same breath as Preston's. Ugh. "Well... thanks, Thomas, I didn't know our teachers thought that much of me. But being smart, and doing well on the sports field, doesn't make you popular," he said slowly, yet a smirk started spreading across his face. He really had no idea he was looked that highly upon.
"Hey... students think you're really something too, you know? Think about it," Thomas insisted, "Do you really think one of the other prefects -- or the likes of Preston for that matter -- would've let us off if he found us with porn? If it was Preston, we'd be in our rooms right about now packing our stuff."
Jared's smile faltered. "Hey, hey... careful now. I take that stuff pretty seriously too. I got you boys to quote Shakespeare, didn't I? If you couldn't recall lines from a simple play we should know like the back of our hands, you wouldn't have had any sympathies from me. I'd've sent you boys packing too."
"But don't you see? We wouldn't have gotten a chance from the likes of Preston -- he would've gotten us expelled without a blink. You, on the other hand, got us to quote Shakespeare. I mean, who does that? But it's exactly that kind of attitude why you're so popular amongst the underclassmen," said Thomas.
"I guess so... I won't deny how awesome I am," said Jared jokingly, smiling again.
"Yes, you really are," said Thomas, his voice genuine.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were buttering me up so you can ask me out on a date," said Jared, trying to suppress the urge to burst out laughing.
Thomas suddenly looked contrite. "No, of course not! I didn't mean --"
"Dude, I was only joking."
"Oh... yeah, I knew that. My bad," replied Thomas, sounding relieved. It was then he realized how much of a stalker he probably sounded. He sat quietly, determined not to make a fool of himself again.
"You should probably eat your food now... it's getting cold," Jared finally prompted, noticing the sudden change in Thomas' attitude.
Just then, the door swung open, and of all people, in walked Preston with his posse, Blake, Dan and Andrew, all prefects, and all from the William Nelson Hall. They all stopped talking when they noticed Jared and Thomas.
"Why hello there, Jared! I didn't see you in classes today... very unprecedented. I thought you died," said Preston brightly.
"You'd really like that, wouldn't you?" replied Jared, just as brightly, looking up at the tall and admittedly handsome blonde-haired boy.
"You wound me with such accusations. And who do we have here?" asked Preston, turning to Thomas, his face twisted into a smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. "What's your name?"
Thomas gulped audibly, "T-Thomas, sir... my name is Thomas."
"Speak up, I can't hear you."
"Thomas sir!"
Jared knew that Preston would forget Thomas's name in the next few seconds.
"And, pray tell, what are you doing in the Prefects' lounge? Have the staff named a thirteenth Prefect I haven't been notified about?" He laughed at his own self-important joke, looking at his posse for affirmation. The three joined, laughing forcefully.
Thomas got to his feet, terrified, but Jared grabbed his hand. "Sit."
A malicious glint flashed in Preston's eyes, yet his voice remained cool. "Do I need to pull rank here?"
"Why don't you just shut up and go away?" said Jared, trying, yet failing, to keep the anger out of his voice. He had no patience for Preston or his crap.
"Watch your mouth, Jared, you're disrespecting this school's Head Boy," said Preston, dropping all pretences. "Non-prefects are not allowed in here."
"H-he's right," Thomas whispered to Jared.
"Oh really now?" asked Jared silkily. "That's funny... I came down very late one evening -- last week, in fact -- to grab some books. Imagine my surprise when I saw you... and a few non-prefects from your hall... all in here... drinking, no less. What was it? Vodka? Whisky?"
Preston paled. "You don't have any proof..."
Jared smiled wickedly. "I don't? Are you sure? Hey, here's an interesting fact. Mobile phones have cameras now, did you know?" He sat there, enjoying the horror spreading across Preston's face. "And here's another random and totally unrelated fact. I have a phone! Nifty little things, phones are."
"You're lying. You would've reported us already if you had proof," Preston threw back, yet his eyes didn't convey the same confidence as his words.
"But Preston, why would I do that, when I can laud it over your head whenever I want?"
Preston stood rooted on the spot, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly. Realizing he was beat, he finally turned around angrily and nodded for his posse to follow. He threw his head back and said, "I'll get you Jared... you've got it coming."
Jared laughed derisively, "Learn to accept defeat with some grace."
Once Preston was gone, Thomas exhaled loudly, "I can't believe you just did that! That was... amazing! Did you see his face? Huh? Did you see his face?"
Jared smiled broadly and closed his eyes, "Yeah, give me a minute to imprint that in my mind permanently."
"That was priceless! This is probably the best day I've had since starting school. Ever!" said Thomas excitedly. "Better even than that one time I saw Mr. Fletcher trip and fall on his face in the Bellevue Gardens."
"Err... sure," said Jared with a raised eyebrow.
"Do you really have photos of Preston drinking?" asked Thomas.
"Nope... but he doesn't know that." They both laughed cheerfully. What Preston also didn't know was that the reason Jared was up late that evening was because he was returning from Branson's flat, and had only gone down to the Shaffausen Chambers in the dead of the night to grab his forgotten books (to work on assignments he would've finished earlier if he wasn't fucking Branson that evening). If Preston had seen him, he would've known he had been sneaking out, since he had been wearing thick wet clothing... which clearly meant he had been outside after hours. It's the reason why Jared didn't confront Preston that evening, but instead chose to sneak away.
Thomas finished his food, and knew it was time to leave. He didn't want to bother Jared anymore, and he was also excited to tell his friends about the evenings events. "Hey, would it be cool i-if we hung out again?" he asked nervously, as he picked up the empty tray and pitcher.
Jared smiled. "You know what? That'd be great... you're not such a bad kid."
Thomas smiled broadly, and did everything in his power to prevent himself from skipping out of the room.
Jared spent the next few hours poring over his assignments, welcoming the silence of the chambers. A few prefects came and left, but he was absorbed by his readings he didn't take much notice. It was late when the distant chiming of the school's Clock Tower broke into his concentration. He checked his watch and saw it was midnight, and finally decided it was time to go back to his room and get some sleep. His bio-clock was messed up from his irregular sleeping patterns, but he was determined to force himself to rest even if he wasn't feeling tired. He had to wake up early to do his rounds, and make sure he made it to all his classes on time.
He tumbled into his bed and willed himself to sleep, but the more he tried to force himself, the more awake he felt. He lay in bed and stared unseeingly at the ceiling, his mind once again consumed by Mr. Daniels. Maybe he does have some feelings for me, or in his own way, cares for me... I mean, he went over and beyond the calling of a mere teacher today. Come to think of it, letting me off the hook, not reporting my evening 'escapades', and then giving me condoms even when St. Joseph's had a strict policy against pre-marital sex, those could land him in serious trouble... His mind wouldn't let up, he was a kid obsessed... he knew it. But it wasn't unfounded, he rationalized. If he thought about it another way, Mr. Daniels would've likely been suspended, or worse, fired for all he had done for him in the space of one day. He must have an ulterior motive, or else why would he risk his job? Jared found the thought exciting, and started fantasizing once again about likely scenarios where him and Mr. Daniels might end up making torrid, passionate love.
He relieved a load in a few broad strokes, then lay in bed panting. It was then he realized he hadn't thought much of Branson at all. He totally forgot to check his messages... he wiped his cum-stained hands on the bed sheets, then reached under the bed for his phone. He barely switched it on when it began beeping with delayed messages. He received a total of sixteen texts.
"What the--?" Jared opened each one and noted the desperation in each successive text. It started with a simple, 'Dude, hvn't hrd frm u all day. You cumin over?", and by the time he reached the last one, it had escalated to a, 'Did I do sumthn wrng? I've been tryna call n txt but no reply. Dn't ignore me mate... if u dnt wanna hook up nemore, at least hv the decency 2 tell me." Well, this is a bit disturbing, he thought. He liked Branson, but he didn't think he left that much of an impression on him the last few days. He wasn't looking for anything serious, just a bit of fun. Just when he was about to reply back, his phone beeped again. It was another message from Branson: 'Ignore my previous texts... I'm just feelin' horny n a tad bit lonely. U're the best thing tht's happened to me in a long while... I miss u Jared. I want u 2 cum ova and fuk me long and hard til I fall asleep Here's some pics to get you bothered and hot.'
Attached to the text were a series of explicit pictures of Branson, from undressing, right up to fingering himself and cumming on his own face. Jared felt his cock spring to life again while he scrolled through the images. No, he told himself, get a grip.
He'd only known Branson for a bit over a week. He really did like him, and if it were in any other circumstance, he'd could totally see him as a boyfriend. But he was too smitten with Mr. Daniels, and he realized now, Branson was just a means of satiating his sexual frustrations. It sounded cynical, and maybe a bit cruel, but he couldn't help feeling that way. He thought carefully about his reply.
'Hey mate, sorry for the late one. I was very busy today and didn't have the chance to check my msgs til now. Look, I'm down for fun whenever, but you need to kno this won't turn into a relationship. There's a lot going on in my life atm so I'm only looking for a bit of fun. But if it's not for u, I can totally understand if u don't wanna see me anymore. Have a think abt it and let me kno.'
He pressed send, and for reasons he couldn't fathom, he suddenly felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Almost like something bad was going to happen. Don't be silly, he told himself. What could possibly go wrong?
He didn't wait for a reply, but switched his phone off and put it away. He pulled his duvet over him, and managed to drift off into blissful sleep, once again consumed by thoughts of the delectable Mr. Daniels. ****
Jared's flu disappeared the very next day after a restful evening, so he started his morning feeling refreshed. But one missed day worth of classes turned out to be almost more than he could cope with. He revelled in his ability to recall previous lessons to the fore of his mind easily, but that was no help for him since he hadn't been to a single class the day before, nor did he have time to go through all his readings prior to class.
"Plato divided systems of government into five types, based on who rules, and the principle by which they rule," said Mr. Fletcher, their Politics instructor, a severe looking man with hawk-like features and an attitude to match. "Mr. Patterson, can you name for the class these five types of government?"
Jared looked up in panic, not knowing the answer. "Sorry Mr. Fletcher, I wasn't in class yesterday for your lecture on Plato."
Mr Fletcher's eyes bore into him as he walked up to his desk. "I don't want to hear excuses. You had ample time to do your readings prior to today's class. You either come prepared, or you don't come at all."
Jared could see Preston, who was sitting a few seats over, smirking from the corner of his eye.
"Ah, yes Mr. McLean?" said Mr. Fletcher, turning to Preston, who had raised his hand.
"Sir, the five systems that Plato divided governments into are aristocracy; rule of the wise and meritorious few, timocracy; rule of the ambitious and war-making, oligarchy; rule of the wealthy and money-seeking few, democracy; unregulated rule of the many, and tyranny," said Preston, his voice loud and pompous.
"Correct, Mr. Mclean," said Mr. Fletcher, his voice silky smooth. "And, please, congratulate your mother for raising a parrot... you have quoted your textbook word for word." It was Jared's turn to smirk, as he watched the smile disappear off Preston's face. It was one of Mr. Fletcher's saving graces... he was harsh, but at least he treated them all the same.
Mr. Fletcher rounded on Jared again. "Mr. Patterson, which of these system of governments do you think Plato advocated for?"
Jared's mind raced, trying to recall every previous class he attended, every book he read, every movie he watched, for a possible answer. "Err... aristocracy?"
"Are you asking me a question, Mr Patterson, or are you giving me an answer?" said Mr. Fletcher.
"Aristocracy," said Jared with certainty, remembering the answer in a random passage he read in a book years before.
Mr. Fletcher paused for a moment before uttering, "Good guess."
Jared could feel his face burn. Isaac, who was sitting next to him, was stifling a laugh. He leaned over and whispered into Jared's ear, "Dude, first time I've seen you flounder... it's somewhat entertaining." Jared grimaced in return.
"Mr. Evan, anything you want to share with the class?" said Mr. Fletcher, catching Isaac off guard.
"Uh, no sir... just, uh, reminding Jared here about the merits of preparing before class." It was Jared's turn to stifle a laugh, as he watched Isaac squirm under Mr. Fletcher's ruthless stare. But this was short lived.
"I see. Advice I trust you follow yourself. If you've done your readings, then you should know why aristocracy is unstable. Please explain."
Isaac sat up straight, coughed, and answered in a voice that was as loud and as pompous as Preston's, "Of course, sir. It's because children will inevitably be born into the wrong class, and if that happens, the ruling class will be corrupted. They will cease to put the common good first and will come to desire private property and status. Plato also felt that women were a corrupting factor."
"Very good, Mr. Evan," said Mr. Fletcher. Isaac beamed broadly. It wasn't often Mr. Fletcher complimented students.
The bell rang signalling the end of class, and Mr. Fletcher called out over the noisy room as students packed up to leave, "Before I forget! Your assignment due next week Thursday is a one thousand word essay explaining Plato's Allegory of the Caves, and how it relates to today's modern government. Pick up a hand-out from my desk on your way out. We're also running behind schedule, so next week we'll try and tackle Aristotle, Rousseau and Wollstonecraft. Good day to you all." A collective groan was heard from the class.
"Uh, well that's inconvenient -- I was planning on getting some sleep sometime this century, but I guess that's not important. I mean, when do they think we'll get the time to finish all these assignments AND do all the required readings?" Isaac complained, as they left for their next class.
"Maybe your hand should take a break from all that jerking off and put pen to paper for a change," said Jared.
"Hey, it's not my fault you never knock when you come into my room," said Isaac. "And I'm sorry, do you not jerk off yourself?"
Jared didn't say anything in response.
The days passed by quickly. Jared spent every lunch break and evening either in the library or the Shaffausen Chambers catching up with all his assignments and readings. After the embarrassment in Mr. Fletcher's class, he never wanted to be blindsided again by questions he didn't know, so he buckled down and did his studies with a ferocity he never exhibited before. He focused especially on Mr. Daniels classes, diligently reading and re-reading all the assigned books for the term, and completing and handing in assignments days before they were due. Even Mr. Daniels noticed how over-prepared he was, so he took him aside during one afternoon and said, "I'm happy to see you're constantly on top of your English assessments, and are engaging constructively in my classes... but... I hope you're also getting some rest -- don't overwork yourself, 'kay?" This only made Jared want to work harder to impress him.
Friday evenings were reserved for Prefect meetings, and he had come to dread them with a passion. He wanted to focus all his evenings on finishing his assignments, as well as complete all his readings so he could write up study notes for their upcoming tests in a few weeks. But he knew the merits of being on the student council, so, when Friday evening rolled around, he put his books away, and left the library, heading down to the Shaffausen Chambers with heavy books in one arm and his even heavier bag in another.
He met Isaac outside the hallway, and whispered sarcastically as they entered the Chambers, "Oh, joy..." Isaac sniggered loudly.
Preston looked up as they entered, "Oh good, we're all here. Shall we start?"
They all took their seats and Preston gavelled them to order.
"I now call this meeting to order," said Preston, puffing out his chest, his Head Boy badge glinting imperiously under the chamber lights. "You have before you minutes from our previous meeting, please go through them and see if everything is correct and in order."
Everyone half-heartedly flipped through their copies.
"Nothing? Good. Now, let's turn our attention to tonight's agenda," said Preston, flipping the page on the hand-out in front of him with the air of a person who was about to speak on something as important as national security. "Jimmy Kingston is a freshman whose parents died tragically two nights ago in a car accident. He's flown home to be with his family... I think it would be a good show of solidarity if I attend the funeral, along with one other prefect. What do you guys reckon?"
Isaac raised his hand. Preston pointedly avoided looking at him, until Isaac put his hand back down and spoke out of turn, "First off, I'm sorry to hear about Jimmy's parents. I can only imagine the pain he must be going through. With that said, this is an emotional time for Jimmy... I think it's best if two of his classmates go instead, preferably his two closest friends. It'll be a good show of solidarity from the school AND it'll be people he knows." This was met with nods of agreement around the table.
"Hmm, no, I don't that would be wise," said Preston, looking bossily around the table. "They're children, they'll be too emotional and distressed, especially when they see the state their friend is in. It's better if two of us go instead. None of us know Jimmy, so we won't have any trouble maintaining composure. And by maintaining composure, as well as sending two of the school's student leadership, it'll put the best face forward for St. Joseph's. We mustn't forget that the Kingston family have been ardent supporters, as well as generous donors, to this school over the last few years... it's a gesture they'll appreciate."
"This sounds like a exercise in vanity for you, Preston," said Jared, shaking his head, "The family is mourning, they wouldn't care less who turns up... so we might as well send Jimmy's friends who'll be able to offer comfort."
Another murmur of agreement was heard from the table, until Preston banged his gavel, "Order! Order! If you want to speak, please raise your hand and wait for your turn."
But Jared spoke again without raising his hand, "I put forward a motion that we send two students from Jimmy's class to the funeral, and that costs for airfare as well as flowers, come from our student activities budget. Any seconders?" Isaac's hand quickly shot up. "Good, shall we put it to a vote now, Preston?"
Preston's eyes flashed maliciously. He did not like being undermined at his meetings. "Fine. Who's in favour of this motion?" All the hands went up around the table with the exception of the prefects from the William Nelson Hall. "Motion carried."
The meeting continued on for the next hour with Jared and Isaac trying to undermine Preston at every turn. They could see Preston was losing his cool, and had begun snapping at everyone for minor infractions to the meeting procedures.
"How many times do I have to tell you all? Raise your hand if you want to say something," said Preston harshly, turning to his agenda, as if he hadn't already memorized each listed item. "Almost done. We're now on miscellaneous business. Anyone have anything they want to talk about that wasn't on the agenda?"
Jared's hand shot up. He could see Preston's jaw flex in agitation.
"Yes, Jared?"
"I'd like to put forward a motion that allows for Prefects to bring guests into the Shaffausen Chambers whenever they want. Many of us do it anyway, so we might as well make it official."
"No, Jared, that's stupid," said Preston bitingly. "We've worked hard to become prefects, and this room is one of the many perks of being one."
"Yes, it is a perk. One that some of us abuse," said Jared, his eyes staring meaningfully across the table at Preston. "Shall we put it to a vote?"
Preston eyes burned red, but his voice remained light and casual when he finally said, "All in favour of allowing prefects to bring their non-prefect guests into here, raise your hand?" Once again, everyone raised their hands, with the exception of the prefects from the William Nelson Hall. There was a tense silence before Preston said, "Motion carried."
Isaac leaned in and said to Jared, "Look at his face, he's about to blow! We should do this more often." They laughed heartily, uncaring if they were overheard.
"If there's nothing else, I now call this meeting to a close," and with that, and a bang of his gavel, Preston got up and left the room, followed closely by Blake, Dan and Andrew.
"You know, he's probably going to find a way to get back at us, right?" Jared said to Isaac, as they stood up and filed out of the chambers with the other prefects.
"Oh, he's a pussy... I'm not worried," replied Isaac.
But Jared turned out to be right, and sooner than he thought. Isaac and he decided to go back to the library to get some work done, both set on finishing their calculus assignment due the next day. It was getting late when Jared noticed Blake and Dan, sitting at a table nearby, eyeing them closely.
"Hey, have you noticed those two gits have been staring at us?" Jared asked Isaac quietly.
Isaac looked up and took notice of them too. "That's odd -- they're never in the library. They're always in their fancy dorm common room, or in the Shaffausen Chambers."
"Yeah, and they've been sitting there looking at us for a while... And where is Preston and Andrew?"
"Who cares? We've got more important things to worry about -- like what the bloody answer to question eleven is," replied Isaac, turning his attention back to his Calculus assignment.
"Something's not right," said Jared. It was true, Blake and Dan were hardly ever in the library. And it's odd that they were just sitting at their table, not a single book open, and had spent the last twenty minutes casting furtive glances their way. "Something's not right," he repeated again, but Isaac has immersed himself back into his assignment, paying him no mind. It suddenly occurred to him that Blake and Dan were probably keeping an eye out on them, and that Preston and Andrew were up to something.
Jared stood up slowly and stretched, and said loudly enough to Isaac that his voice carried over to Blake and Dan's table. "I'm gonna go bathroom, been dying to chuck a piss the last hour. Be right back." Isaac nodded without looking up. Jared walked casually towards the bathroom, and from the corner of his eye, he could see both Blake and Dan's gazes follow him. He walked into the bathroom but u-turned, and peered from behind the wall, waiting for an opportune moment to duck out. As soon as he saw Blake and Dan look away from the bathroom door, he quickly dashed behind the closest bookshelf, then made his way as quietly as he could past the library entrance and outside into the hallway.
What could they be up to? But before he had time to process the thought in his mind, his heart suddenly sank. They were in his room. How can I be so stupid? Of course they're in your room -- they're trying to get your phone! He dashed as fast as his legs could carry him, down the staircase and into their dorm landing, almost smashing into bewildered looking students walking past.
He was right. Andrew was standing outside his door, with arms folded. He looked up when he saw Jared, then opened his door, and whispered to someone inside, "He's here."
He pushed past Andrew and saw his rummaged room, with Preston standing squarely in the middle, a huge grin on his face as if Christmas had come early.
"Well, well, well... you caught me," said Preston, as if he didn't really care that he'd been caught.
"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" Jared choked out, trying to catch his breath.
"Remember you said you had a mobile phone? It occurred to me you're not allowed to have one on campus," said Preston, his voice dripping with excitement. He pulled out Jared's phone and smiled evilly. "I'm here to confiscate it, of course."
Jared's heart started pounding. "You and I both know that's not the reason why you're here... you just want to delete the photos of you and your friends drinking. Give me my phone, and I'll delete it. I promise, Preston... just give it to me."
"How the tables have turned," Preston replied chuckling, "You embarrassed me in my own Prefect meeting today, Jared. And I didn't like it. I don't enjoy people having incriminating things to hold against me. But, as it turns out, I couldn't find anything. You never had any photos of me, eh? And I've hit jackpot... you sure have some incriminating things of yourself on here."
Jared made a jump for his phone, but before he could grab it, Andrew came up from behind him and tripped him to the floor. He looked up to see the malicious glee on Andrew and Preston's faces.
"You can go now Andrew, I've got it from here. And please tell those bloody idiots they let him slip past them. They can't do a simple task like keep an eye on him," said Preston. "And take this phone with you... keep it in a safe place. Do NOT, under any circumstance, turn it on, do you hear me?"
Andrew nodded, and closed the door quietly behind him as he left.
"This isn't funny anymore, Preston," said Jared, his voice shaky, as he slowly got up.
"You're right, it's not funny at all... as it turns out, holier-than-thou Jared, the guy everyone worships... is a faggot," said Preston, his voice turning deadly quiet, as he took a step closer to Jared.
"E-excuse me?" Jared choked out.
"You heard me. Who is this Branson character you've been texting? Your boyfriend?" said Preston, nasty pleasure drenching every word. "Some truly interesting pictures you've been trading."
"That's none of your business, Preston," said Jared, his voice turning hard.
"Oh, on the contrary -- I'm Head Boy, remember? It's my duty to ensure the welfare of this school's students. That includes knowing who our students have been fraternizing with. It's now become evident to me that you like befriending men of shady character," said Preston, taking another step closer to Jared. "Explains why you're with Isaac all the time... is he a faggot too?"
"Shut the fuck up," said Jared, clenching his fist tightly to his sides. He wanted so bad to smash the satisfied look off Preston's face.
"Tut tut... is that how you address your Head Boy?" Preston was enjoying every moment of taunting Jared. He took another step closer. "What were you saying to me the other evening? Learn to accept defeat with some grace? You should follow your own advice."
Jared had absolutely nothing to say to that; his tongue burned with a retort that never materialized. He stood there silently, his eyes beginning to water from the anger he was trying to keep contained.
"Ah, speechless, I see," said Preston, taking another step closer, until he was an inch from Jared's face. "You must enjoy this kind of proximity with boys, huh? What else do you like? Huh? Do you like raging hard cocks too? But of course you do... coz you're a faggot."
"Stop this... this is.... going nowhere," said Jared in almost a whisper, his voice ragged. He knew he was beaten, and he wished for nothing more than for it to be all over. Preston was so close that he could feel his cool breath on his face.
"What's the matter, Jared? Feeling uncomfortable? But I thought this was what you were into," said Preston, inching in closer still. "I can tell from your eyes you're enjoying this. If I didn't know better, it's almost like you want to kiss me."
What happened next was so unbelievably unexpected, so astonishing, it shocked Jared to his core.
His eyes widened as Preston leaned in and kissed him. It was tentative, teasing, playful... toying with him... daring him to react he knew he would -- worst still, he responded, rising to the bait without any hesitation -- he roughly kissed back, his tongue prying open Preston's thin hard lips until he found the soft target inside, his hands grabbing the back of Preston's head forcefully, pulling his face as close as humanly possible. Yet, Preston didn't pull away, but kissed back in force, until both their tongues were fighting with each other to claim dominance. All of Jared's anger, all of his frustrations, melded into that one moment, feeding into the desire that was building quickly and heavily in the pit of his gut. He groaned, as his hands grabbed fistful of Preston's blonde hair, holding him in place as he broke off the kiss, and began trailing his tongue over and around Preston's lips.
Preston's eyes remained firmly shut as he stood there, enjoying the wet prickles of pleasure that Jared's tongue was creating, his arms reaching out and encircling Jared's waist, pulling his body close to his, until they could feel the growing hardness in each other's pants pressing eagerly against each other, begging for release.
But it all ended almost as soon as it started when they heard voices coming from outside the corridor. Reason finally took hold of Jared, and it dawned on him the reality of what was happening. He roughly broke free from Preston, and pushed him away as hard as he could. Preston tripped and hit his desk, falling onto the floor in a heap. Jared breathed heavily, trying to calm his heart, as he looked down at this person he had just made out passionately with; a person, not a moment earlier, he had wanted nothing more than to smash into a million pieces. The air was thick with tension as they both looked at each other, neither daring to venture a word to the other.
Eventually, Preston stood up, his eyes burning, not with anger, but with a need that Jared was all too familiar with. His cock was still raging hard, begging him, egging him on to do something he knew he'd regret later.
Preston quietly walked to the door, opened it, and stood there with his back to Jared. It was a few moments before he finally turned around to face him.
Preston's mouth opened, and Jared was sure he was going to say something nasty to cover up what had happened, say something that would put all the blame on him -- but he was once again in for another surprise.
"Meet me tonight at 3am, Shaffausen Chambers." With those words, Preston closed the door behind him, leaving Jared standing in the middle of his room, alone and confused, his rock hard cock a painful reminder of what had just happened moments earlier... with a person whom he hated with all his being.