Similar Differences

Standard warnings apply. Actually, the site already has warnings. Just to make sure, here're more. ^_^ Most of this is actually fiction but some situations have been taken from real life. The names of the characters are made up/fictional - if there are people with the same names somewhere out there, that is purely coincidental.

As with most stories, the author retains all rights to this story. Without the permission of the author, no reproductions or links to other sites are allowed.

This deals with male homosexual love. If you are not of legal age (18 or 21, it depends actually where), or if you live/are in a place where material such as this is illegal, or if you are simply offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, please leave.

This story has no sex scenes in it. ^_^

Chapter 4: Saturdays

Flopping down under my sheets at home, I tried savoring the way each tense muscle in my back was cradled by the soft, almost battered mattress.

It would be more complicated than just 'us.' Aside from the fact that both of us were male, there was the fact that he lived in a high-end subdivision while I lived along a street where dogs barked incessantly at night, alongside the sounds of drunk men merry-making in an open-air bar.

And there was the fact that he was more concerned with how he'd make a great impact in the next bash he'd attend, while I was always flustered about getting As in my courses and making the next organizational project a big success.

Although the tension slowly melted into my bed, I couldn't sleep, thinking about all and everything. Quietly, softly, I stared out the windows.

The night was deep; its blackness vast.

Down, on the road, a stray dog was whimpering, probably limping around.

I thought of Kyle. From his window, he'd be seeing a long line of willows, their branches flowing around serenely. The sound of waves wafting up from the street.

There was a deep, vast rift between us. As deep and vast as the night.

But before I could depress myself even more, I had a vision of two mice singing "Somewhere Out There" in the middle of the night.

Kyle and I. Osmond and I. Kyle and Os. O and K. We called each other a lot of things, but never 'couple' or 'boyfriends.' For some reason, we steered clear of those two labels. To each other, we admitted that we were friends, close friends, real friends - even special friends. But never "boy" friends.

And our routine didn't change. We'd meet up at his place, drive to school together, go on with our lives, ride back together and I'd go home.

It made me feel a bit secure that he didn't ask for help in academics. Whenever I'd offer to help him with something, he'd say, "Don't bother, I can manage." At least I knew he wasn't with me just so he'd have a tutor.

But there wasn't any of the 'magic' that I thought characterized relationships. Romantic ones.

Then again, maybe we weren't romantically linked. We were 'special friends' but what did that mean? I didn't know. I don't think even he knew.

Still, for a while, it felt good being special to someone.

Maybe I was struck with temporary insanity, maybe the novelty of being 'special' (and seeing otherwise) was starting to rub off of me, or maybe I just wanted to see that he didn't run into any trouble. At any rate, when Kyle asked if I wanted to go to an end-of-summer party with him one Saturday, I just said yes. It was his way of saying thank you for helping him pull up his grade to a B+, he explained.

Never mind if I had a meeting. I was sick and tired of meetings anyway.

"Really? You'll come?"

"Sure!"

"But don't you have a meeting?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Okay, why don't we swing by your meeting then I'll wait for you?"

"Really? You'd do that?" Well, okay. I couldn't get out of it. So much for 'sick and tired of meetings.'

"Of course," he grinned.

"Why not come to the meeting with me?"

"Won't that look weird?"

Oh. Yeah. "True," suddenly inspiration struck, "but you might just be interested in helping the Council out?" Each word rose in pitch, sounding like a sick song. I wasn't a siren, yeah, and I guess I couldn't lure people towards me - much less lure them into doing stuff. Ah, time to take classes on hypnotism.

"Nice try, Os."

"Why not?" I tried to pout.

He let out a little laugh, reverberating from his chest. "Don't do that. You look like a duck." Hm, I remember saying that about a certain girl I was avoiding like the plague. "Os, you know I'm not interested in stuff like that."

"Yeah, I know. But it was worth a try."

Even from the way we dressed, Kyle and I looked different. I had on gray slacks and a long-sleeved black polo shirt. I just folded the sleeves up, stopping near the elbow. Kyle was in khakis with a plain, regular t-shirt. Next to him I was overdressed.

The Council was probably shocked to see me marching in, dressed like I was going to a party - which I was actually. It wasn't a long meeting, anyhow. We were just given prep reminders for the incoming school year.

When we got to the party, people were everywhere. A number of guys went up to Kyle and they started a group chat of sorts. Some of them I saw at school; others I never met. Seeing as Kyle was in his element, I didn't want to bother him.

So I simply slunk away. No one saw that we came together. No one would see us together for the rest of the evening.

The music was blaring - I had a nagging thought of going into the bathroom and locking myself in there but then if someone needed to use it...

Besides, I already checked the bathroom. There were people in it.

Trying to remain as inconspicuous as I could, I took interest in the wall paper of the house, examining it as if it were some form of intelligent life.

Who was I kidding? I didn't belong there.

And it would only get to my nerves whenever a girl would come up to Kyle and slowly batt her lashes at him. Times that'd happen, I'd wish I could sneak up behind her and drop an ice cube down the back of her dress.

Some people came up to me, too, trying to make conversation. In the kitchen, where no one was, we sat on high stools. But I never was good at keeping the lines flowing - they'd soon excuse themselves to disappear into the faceless crowd.

"You all right?" Kyle came up, looking a bit concerned.

"Yeah, I am. Don't worry about me." Now I didn't want to ruin his evening did I?

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead," giving him a brave smile. It's not like I was going to bungee jump though.

Answering my smile with one of his own, he nodded and disappeared into the mass of bodies, bouncing, swaying, waving their arms.

Feeling a bit tired of the seemingly ritualistic jumping and screaming, I started walking around, trying to put faces on the faceless people - a task that just proved to be disastrous.

There was Sam who was never awake at Biology, but seemed pretty alive at the dance floor. Then there was Kristy - hey, I thought she was busy with a Council project. Oh well. Then I saw the girl who was flirting with Kyle earlier. She was with Ciara and they seemed to be pretty close. I later found out that her name was Chastity and that they were cousins. Chastity, huh? And then there was Lara, smooching with roughly three other guys on a couch.

Lara? Lara!

My sister and I, we weren't really close. But still, I'm her brother. An older one at that.

Perhaps trying to confirm it, or trying to divert my attention, I spun around, looking away, seeing Kyle's face. He probably noticed something - maybe it was the way my eyes were flashing.

"You okay?"

"Tell me that isn't my sister."

Peering over my shoulder, he said, sounding sullen, "I can't lie, can I?"

"Damn," Oh yeah, it was her all right. And she looked like she was just about ready to start undressing. The guys were. Grabbing her by the wrist, I took one good yank, freeing her from the tangle of limbs. She bumped into me, laughing. "What's the meaning of this?"

She was laughing uncontrollably, reminding me of Kyle on the phone not long ago. In between giggles, she managed to ask, "Os? Osmond? What are you doing here?"

"Hey man! If you wanted to join in, don't take her all to yourself."

That made me feel sick, hearing it from one of the guys.

"My sister is not a slut." Lara, whose eyes were partially closed and who seemed to be drunk, clung to me just to keep standing. "Lara, c'mon, I'm taking you home."

"Aww, man. We were just having fun."

"Well, you've had too much fun."

"We haven't even started yet!"

Lara didn't remain quiet either, "Yeah! We haven't even started yet! Osmond, don't be a kill joy."

I honestly wanted to slap her right then and there. I would've if Kyle hadn't put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently.

As I turned to look at him, trying to prop Lara up, I didn't notice one of the guys get up behind me. He tried to pry Lara from me - though he was bigger than I was, he was drunk and I had the advantage.

Or so I thought. In the middle of our insane tug-o-war, he gave me a solid right. Right on my eye. The sheer force of it sent me sprawling to the floor. Suddenly, he had Lara again.

I never saw Kyle as mad as he was then. "You bastard." Lunging at Mr. Big, he delivered his own one-two.

Struggling to get up, I heard someone shout, "Fight!" Before I knew it, people were flogging each other, kicking, punching whatever they could find. Making eye contact with Kyle and motioning for the door, we managed to sneak out of the big mess. Lara wasn't conscious as we set her down in the backseat.

"I think I should just bring you straight home." Kyle said.

We drove in silence most of the time. Lara would interject once in a while as she babbled, muttering things in her sleep.

Great. One of the few parties I attend and I mess it up really well.

It was only 12 midnight. I knew Kyle usually stayed up until 3 am.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Kyle answered, trying to grin. "It was fun."

He looked to me. I stared back, noticing a cut on his eyebrow and a bruised cheek. "I'd better fix you up when we get home."

"You'd better fix yourself up too." He smiled, "Look at yourself."

Pulling down the sunguard and flipping out the mirror, I saw the blackeye had started to swell.

Kyle helped me get Lara into her room and followed me to mine. I had to give him directions because that was the first time he's ever been there.

"Where's your mom?"

"Oh, her? She'll be away for the weekend. Just wait a sec." Running down to the kitchen and shuffling through the drawers, I eventually found the first aid kit. Pouring some iodine out on a cotton ball, I gently dabbed at the cut, careful not to hurt him. All the while he was just staring at me, quietly. "Here, hold this to your cheek," offering him an icepack.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "You know, you look funny."

"Really now?"

"Yeah. The black eye doesn't suit you. You look like a panda."

Of course, I didn't want to say I liked pandas then. "Very funny," I replied.

In spite of the iodine, the cut, the bruise, the tousled hair, Kyle still looked stunning. Stunningly exhausted. He started yawning and stretching.

"So, this is where you live."

"Yeah," I started, "it isn't much, but it's okay."

"I think it's great. Cozy."

"Want me to show you around?"

"At this time? It's dark."

"We can switch on the lights, silly." He looked really tired, seated on my bed.

Something told me that if I let him drive home in his condition, something I might regret could happen.

"Why don't I show you around in the morning?"

"In the morning? You're suggesting I crash here first?"

"Yeah. Why not?," I asked.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Where's the guest room?"

Hmm, that was a problem. We didn't have a guest room. And I don't think my parents would've appreciated having some guy sleep in their bed while they were both away. And I didn't really want him to sleep on the couch after everything he's done for me.

"You'll sleep here." I said it in all innocence - and the offer was innocent as well. Which was probably why I didn't really like the mischievous glint in his eye. "And I'll sleep on the couch downstairs," I finished.

"That wouldn't be right. It's your room and your bed. You should sleep in it," he said.

"But your the guest," I retorted.

"Oh well. Forget it. I'll just drive home. See you," he gave me a soft peck - our traditional goodbye kiss.

"Kyle, to be honest, I don't want you to drive home the way you are. You've been hit and stuff and you look really tired. Okay. If I sleep with you in this bed, can you promise that there won't be any funny business?"

Feigning an innocent look, complete with palms put together, as if in prayer, he said, "Yes. No, funny business. I promise," then quickly remembering, "What if Lara saw us?"

"Nah. She always wakes up later than I do. Don't worry."

We started undressing to our underwear. Kyle liked to sleep only in his boxers - a little factoid I found out the night - or early morning - he called me from Orchard Street. "Uh, you don't mind, do you?" He asked, apprehensively.

"No, go ahead."

I, on the other hand, was more conservative in my sleep wear. I kept my shirt on.

Though it was a double, it seemed inevitable that a foot would touch a calf, a hand would touch a back. Each time it happened, we'd apologize bashfully.

It happened quite a lot - so much that we probably weren't going to get any sleep because we were busy apologizing to each other.

"Os, this isn't working."

"I know." I answered.

"Why fight it?"

"Kyle," I started. I was scared. I didn't really want to go through with it just yet.

Besides, I didn't want to embarrass myself.

Feeling my face flush, I whispered, slowly. "Kyle, I'm not ready yet."

"I'm not talking about sex, stupid. I just want to hold you. Is that okay?"

"Oh." I didn't want to embarrass myself still I ended up doing so. It's a great talent, really. Does wonders for the ego. "Okay, I guess."

Flipping over to face me, he slowly reached under my side and pulled me to him.

This time he didn't smell like alcohol or smoke.

It made me even more uneasy. I started chuckling nervously.

"What's wrong?," he said, softly. "Not comfortable?"

I tried adjusting myself, turning my back so that he could hold me from behind.

"Better?"

At least with my back to him, he couldn't see my discomfort. "Yeah."

For a while we just lay like that, enjoying each other's warmth. "You know, you're pretty sturdy for a geek."

"I'm not a geek."

"Whatever you are, you're pretty... what's the word? Firm?"

"Well, I have to run from building to building, up and down the stairs in school, right?"

"Smart." He kissed me softly on my neck.

"No funny business," I protested.

"It was just a kiss. I promise, nothing more than that."

Again, we were quiet for a while. The moonlight, mixed with streetlight, streamed in through my windows. There weren't any blinds, curtains or drapes on them. Just clear glass.

It was quiet outside.

"Is that a telescope?" He asked.

"Yeah, it is." I had a pretty large telescope sitting beside the windows. It was white with black rings.

"Does it work?" He was whispering. I could understand why. If he talked any louder, I'd have gotten mad. He was just about speaking directly into my ear.

"Nope. The mirror or something got broken."

"Oh," he said. "why don't you have it fixed?"

"No one could fix it anymore. The store dad got it from closed down."

"Oh," was all he said, as if expecting something more.

"It was a gift from my dad when I was younger. As a kid, I loved Astronomy. Stars, planets. Things like that. I even had this dream of visiting Saturn and never coming back."

Saturn - the ringed planet. To me that was the most beautiful of all the planets in the solar system. In my childish fantasies, it was as if whoever lived there were protected by the broad, brilliant rings.

"Never?"

"Never."

"Why?"

I took me a while to answer. "I guess I used to think that there was nothing left for me here." Yes. I have to admit. Even as a child, I wanted to leave.

"Used to?" He asked curiously.

Again, I shifted my weight, turning around to face him.

In the dim light, I could still make out his features - his eyes, his nose, his lips. The cut on his eyebrows. The bruise on his cheek.

"Yeah," I said, as tenderly as I could, "used to."

And I kissed him softly before nuzzling up to him and falling asleep.

I pretty much got used to frying stuff in the morning. Kyle came padding out my room, wearing his boxers and a shirt I loaned him.

"Smells good."

Grinning back at him, I asked, "Seeing as I'm a bit busy, maybe you can tour the house yourself. Just shout if you have questions. And don't go into Lara's room. She's still asleep."

"Okay."

Actually, there wasn't much to see. The living room opened up to the dining room and kitchen so well that there wasn't really any demarcation where one ended and the other began. If someone had asked me, "where is the boundary between the living room and the dining room?", it was like he was asking me "where does the tail of a snake start?"

To the side was a door that lead to the 2-car garage. The only other door in that living/dining room was the entrance of the house itself.

Plodding out the front door, he looked up, "Os, what's this mirror thing?"

Ba gua? I didn't know what to call it actually. It was a red polygonal piece of wood with a circular mirror in the middle. "It's supposed to repel evil spirits, I think."

Even if we were just half-Chinese, our house was littered with Feng Shui paraphernalia, if I could call it that. I didn't really believe in things like that but they did kind of work like a security blanket. We even had a little altar at the top of the stairs with incense holders, statues of three men - who are supposed to represent longevity, plentitude and... I forgot.

Pretty ironic, considering we were Catholics.

Tiptoeing up the stairs, looking around my parents room. I could hear his footsteps from below, the thumps providing a semi-steady beat to the sizzle of the frying pan.

"Kyle, breakfast's ready!"

"You know," he said from the stairs, "we're making a lot of noise. I think we woke your sister up."

We sat opposite each other. "Nah, Lara usually wakes up at lunch."

"Really? I heard some movement in her room."

True enough, while we were munching on our Sunday breakfast (ham and eggs, fried rice), Lara came shuffling down the steps, fully dressed, about ready to leave.

"Hey, where're you going?" She didn't even look my way. Frustrated, I walked up to her. "Want breakfast?"

To say the least, she wasn't amused. "Ossie, don't ever embarrass me in front of my friends again."

Whoa. "Well, good morning to you, too! I only yanked you from a would-be orgy for your own good."

"Just leave the partying to me. Go live your nerdy life. It works better that way."

This time, she didn't laugh it off the way she did with mom.

I was about to agree with her: I didn't want this to blow out of proportion. Besides, if she didn't want me to be her older brother, then I had better things to do.

"Hey," Kyle spoke up after downing a mouthful, "that's not fair. He was doing what he thought was right." Before he was done, Kyle stood beside me.

"A lot you should know," Spitefully, she countered, "Who're you to say that? You used to sleep around with almost anyone."

Kyle was about to say something, but stopped. All he had was a face that said 'guilt' all over it.

Leaving me with the bitter aftertaste of an argument, she stormed out.

We stood there, immobile, staring at the door.

"Os," Kyle started. "Os, it's not as bad as what she said."

Before he could continue, I cut in. I didn't want to hear what else he had to say, "Kyle, it's okay. I expected that as much." Realizing that it sounded tactless, I quickly added, "It's not like I'd expected you to have had lots of sex before, but, I guess, you know, with your lifestyle, I guess I somehow knew you were experienced. At least at fooling around."

This time I didn't find it irritating that he didn't look at me. It was only fair. I couldn't look at him myself. Directly.

"But I didn't tell you."

"Kyle," taking in a large breath, I tried to look at him squarely in the face, holding his chin up, trying to force him to do the same. "Just let it go. It's okay."

"You sure?"

I nodded.

But how 'okay' is it ever to be in a situation like that? To find out your significant other - well more like your 'special friend' - liked fooling around?

Maybe it was especially bad for me since he was my first.

Ever.

First relationship. First date. First kiss.

I didn't know what to make of it. I mean, I was sort of expecting it. But my expectations didn't cushion the blow.

"Oh, okay," he tried to smile. "Hey, I was wondering if we could go out later?"

I didn't even think much before answering.

"Sorry, Kyle. I have stuff to do. Maybe next time."

Though I didn't have much stuff to do, I ended up working the whole day, eventually realizing that there was a large flaw in dealing with stress by pouring on even more stress.

Since that Sunday morning, Lara and I haven't really talked. Many times I felt relieved when she wasn't home - and many times I try to find even more work at school just to get home late and avoid her.

The regular sem had started.

My birthday that year fell on a Saturday. All week I successfully fended off my mother's suggestions at throwing a party, "even a simple one, Osmond?" And I knew her other suggestion - "maybe you could go with Lara to her party?" - wasn't going to work either. My sister was somewhere out, again.

"But what are you going to do here, alone?" She had somewhere to go to. For some reason, my mother seemed to be sneaking out a lot more than usual.

"Mom, I think I have a few things to type up. Don't worry about me."

"Okay, honey. See you. Happy birthday!" Before stepping into the cab, she called back, "Don't forget to wear the red shirt I gave you!"

That morning, she gave me a bright red polo shirt. For luck. She cooked noddles. For long life. And bought round fruits. For wealth.

It's funny how she isn't Chinese but seemed even more Chinese than me.

'A few things to type up.' Few was right. I was done by lunch - although I did welcome the quiet downtime for myself.

Those days I rarely had moments like that.

Moments I feel everyone should be entitled to once in a while.

Kyle had greeted me the day before, saying something about having somewhere to go to right on my birthday. Although I wanted to see him, I didn't want to be petty.

Besides, people were starting to talk. It's not like we were the closest of friends before - quite the opposite really. Then, all of a sudden, with the exit of summer, we were suddenly riding home with each other, meeting up with each other.

Though we'd meet up in secret, walls seemed to have mouths, and the ground seemed to have ears.

Walking around, feeling the sheer bliss of not doing anything, half-asleep, half-daydreaming around the house.

It was relaxing.

But the jarring buzz of the doorbell quickly snapped me back to reality.

It literally gave me a jolt. I wasn't expecting anyone.

And I was even more surprised to see Kyle there, a box of pizza in one hand, two intricately wrapped cartons in the other.

"Hello."

"Kyle? What are you doing here?"

"I told you, I had to go somewhere." He smiled. "Since I knew you'd be working, I'll work with you."

He seemed quite satisfied with himself and I didn't know how to tell him so I just came out with it, "Actually, I'm all done."

"You are? Great! Now we can work a bit more."

Puzzled, I gaped at him. Him? Work? And sounding excited to?

Marching into the house, he suddenly remembered, "Oh, before anything else, happy birthday," offering me the two boxes.

"Kyle, you didn't have to."

Softly, he answered, "I wanted to."

Yeah, he still had the power to make me red whenever he wanted. "Thanks."

Carefully removing the tape - he held back his giggles seeing as I did almost everything, even unwrapping gifts, systematically - I found the first box contained a dark blue shirt.

"Kyle, this looks expensive," Worried to accept, yet worried to offend him, "I don't know if I can accept this."

"Os, it's a gift." He smiled. "Besides, for everything you've given me, that's small."

I smiled back, weakly, while opening the second one.

And the second one - it was a box of glow in the dark stickers, shaped like little stars. It came with an astronomical map of the night sky of the northern and southern hemispheres.

"Kyle..."

From where he sat, he just beamed. "I tried looking for someone who could fix your telescope, but I couldn't find anyone. So, I did the next best thing. You like it?"

"Like it? Wow. I don't know what to say. I mean... thanks." I muttered.

"C'mon, let's put them up."

Soon he was helping me haul a ladder up the steps and into my room, walking around, putting stuff all at one side.

With me.

I had a ruler and a tape measure, trying to measure the size of the ceiling relative to that of the floor.

"What're you doing?"

"I want to do this right."

He chuckled. "You know, it'll still look good even without being precise."

"Hah!," I laughed, "Well, I'll tell you what, why don't you do half of my ceiling and I'll do the other half?"

And so that's what happened. For one half of the room, I carried the ladder around, supporting it while he climbed up to stick stickers at random. Of course, his side took much less time to fill than mine.

And the whole job probably took much longer than it should've since I was busy feeling embarrassed at staring into his shorts when he was up the ladder, or when he was staring into my shorts when I was up the ladder.

We needed comfy wear. And we needed someone to support the ladder.

Once in a while, I would slip off a step and we'd laugh about how clumsy I was getting. He'd make a smart quip about how I was really getting old. Sometimes he'd drop a star and say, 'Hey, falling star. Make a wish.' And I'd say, 'it's not falling star but shooting star, dummy.' God how corny.

When we were done, one side looked almost exactly like one side of the star map that came with the stickers; the other looked like... glow in the dark stickers on a ceiling. But eventually, I couldn't really tell which parts I did and which parts he did.

It was beautiful - especially that night. In spite of the light sloping at a downward angle into my room, the stickers released a soft glow. They sat, as if humming a soft song from far away.

I could go stargazing in my own room. I wished Kyle could've been there to share it with me.

"Os, can we talk?"

The Management Association's president, Marc, came up to me as people were shuffling out of our routine weekly meeting.

"Sure, what's up?"

He looked concerned about something. "Os, is everything all right?"

I, for one, didn't know where this was coming from. "Yeah. Why'd you ask?"

Pausing for a while, gathering his thoughts, he started, "You've definitely proven your loyalty to the org in the past." That couldn't be bad, now could it? "But recently, your participation has been dropping."

Oh. So this was what it was about.

"Marc, I'm sorry. It's just that," I have someone now? I couldn't tell him that, "I've been busy with other work too." Since he sounded sincere, I didn't want to be spiteful.

"I understand," he continued, "It's just that, as secretary of the org, you're supposed to be at all meetings and events." I nodded. But I missed out on just one or two. "Your participation in the org is still quite something, considering you have other orgs and the council, too. In fact, it's even better than that of other members. But you never used to skip out on us." Slowly, as if trodding on broken glass, he finally said, "I'm just wondering if things are okay with you."

On my way home, his short speech reverberated in my head. Dropping participation? I knew my grade point average was going down, if only by tenths. But I didn't realize my org positions were suffering, either.

Maybe I did miss out on a few meetings or events. One or two.

But I never missed out on anything before.

And nothing was wrong.

Driving home, I felt stressed. I mean, I had to spend time with Kyle, too.

It was about giving way. But I wasn't willing to sacrifice so much.

He wasn't either.

We were doomed from the beginning, it seemed.

When I got home, I just wanted to get my shoes and socks off and jump in bed. Maybe look at the stars for a while, before drifting off to sleep.

It was dark out. I heard that a storm was going to hit in the morning.

"Osmond?" Knocking on my door, my mom poked her head in.

"Yes, mom?"

"Osmond, can I talk to you a bit?" I hit me as strange. My mother never came into my room to talk. She'd usually, literally, traipse in, regally - and importantly - announcing that we'd have some place to go to and that I should wear this and that.

"Okay."

Crawling, pushing myself to sit up, I watched her sit near my foot. Looking up she said something about how pretty the stars looked.

We both were silent for a while.

"Osmond," she began, her voice a bit shaky. "Osmond, I'm getting an annulment. Your father is having an affair."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Standard warnings apply. Actually, the site already has warnings. Just to make sure, here're more. ^_^ Most of this is actually fiction but some situations have been taken from real life. The names of the characters are made up/fictional - if there are people with the same names somewhere out there, that is purely coincidental. As with most stories, the author retains all rights to this story. Without the permission of the author, no reproductions or links to other sites are allowed.

This deals with male homosexual love. If you are not of legal age (18 or 21, it depends actually where), or if you live/are in a place where material such as this is illegal, or if you are simply offended by homosexuality and/or homosexual themes, please leave.

This story has no sex scenes in it. ^_^

Chapter 4: Saturdays

Flopping down under my sheets at home, I tried savoring the way each tense muscle in my back was cradled by the soft, almost battered mattress.

It would be more complicated than just 'us.' Aside from the fact that both of us were male, there was the fact that he lived in a high-end subdivision while I lived along a street where dogs barked incessantly at night, alongside the sounds of drunk men merry-making in an open-air bar.

And there was the fact that he was more concerned with how he'd make a great impact in the next bash he'd attend, while I was always flustered about getting As in my courses and making the next organizational project a big success.

Although the tension slowly melted into my bed, I couldn't sleep, thinking about all and everything. Quietly, softly, I stared out the windows.

The night was deep; its blackness vast.

Down, on the road, a stray dog was whimpering, probably limping around.

I thought of Kyle. From his window, he'd be seeing a long line of willows, their branches flowing around serenely. The sound of waves wafting up from the street.

There was a deep, vast rift between us. As deep and vast as the night.

But before I could depress myself even more, I had a vision of two mice singing "Somewhere Out There" in the middle of the night.

Kyle and I. Osmond and I. Kyle and Os. O and K. We called each other a lot of things, but never 'couple' or 'boyfriends.' For some reason, we steered clear of those two labels. To each other, we admitted that we were friends, close friends, real friends - even special friends. But never "boy" friends.

And our routine didn't change. We'd meet up at his place, drive to school together, go on with our lives, ride back together and I'd go home.

It made me feel a bit secure that he didn't ask for help in academics. Whenever I'd offer to help him with something, he'd say, "Don't bother, I can manage." At least I knew he wasn't with me just so he'd have a tutor.

But there wasn't any of the 'magic' that I thought characterized relationships. Romantic ones.

Then again, maybe we weren't romantically linked. We were 'special friends' but what did that mean? I didn't know. I don't think even he knew.

Still, for a while, it felt good being special to someone.

Maybe I was struck with temporary insanity, maybe the novelty of being 'special' (and seeing otherwise) was starting to rub off of me, or maybe I just wanted to see that he didn't run into any trouble. At any rate, when Kyle asked if I wanted to go to an end-of-summer party with him one Saturday, I just said yes. It was his way of saying thank you for helping him pull up his grade to a B+, he explained.

Never mind if I had a meeting. I was sick and tired of meetings anyway.

"Really? You'll come?"

"Sure!"

"But don't you have a meeting?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"Okay, why don't we swing by your meeting then I'll wait for you?"

"Really? You'd do that?" Well, okay. I couldn't get out of it. So much for 'sick and tired of meetings.'

"Of course," he grinned.

"Why not come to the meeting with me?"

"Won't that look weird?"

Oh. Yeah. "True," suddenly inspiration struck, "but you might just be interested in helping the Council out?" Each word rose in pitch, sounding like a sick song. I wasn't a siren, yeah, and I guess I couldn't lure people towards me - much less lure them into doing stuff. Ah, time to take classes on hypnotism.

"Nice try, Os."

"Why not?" I tried to pout.

He let out a little laugh, reverberating from his chest. "Don't do that. You look like a duck." Hm, I remember saying that about a certain girl I was avoiding like the plague. "Os, you know I'm not interested in stuff like that."

"Yeah, I know. But it was worth a try."

Even from the way we dressed, Kyle and I looked different. I had on gray slacks and a long-sleeved black polo shirt. I just folded the sleeves up, stopping near the elbow. Kyle was in khakis with a plain, regular t-shirt. Next to him I was overdressed.

The Council was probably shocked to see me marching in, dressed like I was going to a party - which I was actually. It wasn't a long meeting, anyhow. We were just given prep reminders for the incoming school year.

When we got to the party, people were everywhere. A number of guys went up to Kyle and they started a group chat of sorts. Some of them I saw at school; others I never met. Seeing as Kyle was in his element, I didn't want to bother him.

So I simply slunk away. No one saw that we came together. No one would see us together for the rest of the evening.

The music was blaring - I had a nagging thought of going into the bathroom and locking myself in there but then if someone needed to use it...

Besides, I already checked the bathroom. There were people in it.

Trying to remain as inconspicuous as I could, I took interest in the wall paper of the house, examining it as if it were some form of intelligent life.

Who was I kidding? I didn't belong there.

And it would only get to my nerves whenever a girl would come up to Kyle and slowly batt her lashes at him. Times that'd happen, I'd wish I could sneak up behind her and drop an ice cube down the back of her dress.

Some people came up to me, too, trying to make conversation. In the kitchen, where no one was, we sat on high stools. But I never was good at keeping the lines flowing - they'd soon excuse themselves to disappear into the faceless crowd.

"You all right?" Kyle came up, looking a bit concerned.

"Yeah, I am. Don't worry about me." Now I didn't want to ruin his evening did I?

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go ahead," giving him a brave smile. It's not like I was going to bungee jump though.

Answering my smile with one of his own, he nodded and disappeared into the mass of bodies, bouncing, swaying, waving their arms.

Feeling a bit tired of the seemingly ritualistic jumping and screaming, I started walking around, trying to put faces on the faceless people - a task that just proved to be disastrous.

There was Sam who was never awake at Biology, but seemed pretty alive at the dance floor. Then there was Kristy - hey, I thought she was busy with a Council project. Oh well. Then I saw the girl who was flirting with Kyle earlier. She was with Ciara and they seemed to be pretty close. I later found out that her name was Chastity and that they were cousins. Chastity, huh? And then there was Lara, smooching with roughly three other guys on a couch.

Lara? Lara!

My sister and I, we weren't really close. But still, I'm her brother. An older one at that.

Perhaps trying to confirm it, or trying to divert my attention, I spun around, looking away, seeing Kyle's face. He probably noticed something - maybe it was the way my eyes were flashing.

"You okay?"

"Tell me that isn't my sister."

Peering over my shoulder, he said, sounding sullen, "I can't lie, can I?"

"Damn," Oh yeah, it was her all right. And she looked like she was just about ready to start undressing. The guys were. Grabbing her by the wrist, I took one good yank, freeing her from the tangle of limbs. She bumped into me, laughing. "What's the meaning of this?"

She was laughing uncontrollably, reminding me of Kyle on the phone not long ago. In between giggles, she managed to ask, "Os? Osmond? What are you doing here?"

"Hey man! If you wanted to join in, don't take her all to yourself."

That made me feel sick, hearing it from one of the guys.

"My sister is not a slut." Lara, whose eyes were partially closed and who seemed to be drunk, clung to me just to keep standing. "Lara, c'mon, I'm taking you home."

"Aww, man. We were just having fun."

"Well, you've had too much fun."

"We haven't even started yet!"

Lara didn't remain quiet either, "Yeah! We haven't even started yet! Osmond, don't be a kill joy."

I honestly wanted to slap her right then and there. I would've if Kyle hadn't put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently.

As I turned to look at him, trying to prop Lara up, I didn't notice one of the guys get up behind me. He tried to pry Lara from me - though he was bigger than I was, he was drunk and I had the advantage.

Or so I thought. In the middle of our insane tug-o-war, he gave me a solid right. Right on my eye. The sheer force of it sent me sprawling to the floor. Suddenly, he had Lara again.

I never saw Kyle as mad as he was then. "You bastard." Lunging at Mr. Big, he delivered his own one-two.

Struggling to get up, I heard someone shout, "Fight!" Before I knew it, people were flogging each other, kicking, punching whatever they could find. Making eye contact with Kyle and motioning for the door, we managed to sneak out of the big mess. Lara wasn't conscious as we set her down in the backseat.

"I think I should just bring you straight home." Kyle said.

We drove in silence most of the time. Lara would interject once in a while as she babbled, muttering things in her sleep.

Great. One of the few parties I attend and I mess it up really well.

It was only 12 midnight. I knew Kyle usually stayed up until 3 am.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Kyle answered, trying to grin. "It was fun."

He looked to me. I stared back, noticing a cut on his eyebrow and a bruised cheek. "I'd better fix you up when we get home."

"You'd better fix yourself up too." He smiled, "Look at yourself."

Pulling down the sunguard and flipping out the mirror, I saw the blackeye had started to swell.

Kyle helped me get Lara into her room and followed me to mine. I had to give him directions because that was the first time he's ever been there.

"Where's your mom?"

"Oh, her? She'll be away for the weekend. Just wait a sec." Running down to the kitchen and shuffling through the drawers, I eventually found the first aid kit. Pouring some iodine out on a cotton ball, I gently dabbed at the cut, careful not to hurt him. All the while he was just staring at me, quietly. "Here, hold this to your cheek," offering him an icepack.

"Thanks," he mumbled. "You know, you look funny."

"Really now?"

"Yeah. The black eye doesn't suit you. You look like a panda."

Of course, I didn't want to say I liked pandas then. "Very funny," I replied.

In spite of the iodine, the cut, the bruise, the tousled hair, Kyle still looked stunning. Stunningly exhausted. He started yawning and stretching.

"So, this is where you live."

"Yeah," I started, "it isn't much, but it's okay."

"I think it's great. Cozy."

"Want me to show you around?"

"At this time? It's dark."

"We can switch on the lights, silly." He looked really tired, seated on my bed.

Something told me that if I let him drive home in his condition, something I might regret could happen.

"Why don't I show you around in the morning?"

"In the morning? You're suggesting I crash here first?"

"Yeah. Why not?," I asked.

"Well, yeah, I guess. Where's the guest room?"

Hmm, that was a problem. We didn't have a guest room. And I don't think my parents would've appreciated having some guy sleep in their bed while they were both away. And I didn't really want him to sleep on the couch after everything he's done for me.

"You'll sleep here." I said it in all innocence - and the offer was innocent as well. Which was probably why I didn't really like the mischievous glint in his eye. "And I'll sleep on the couch downstairs," I finished.

"That wouldn't be right. It's your room and your bed. You should sleep in it," he said.

"But your the guest," I retorted.

"Oh well. Forget it. I'll just drive home. See you," he gave me a soft peck - our traditional goodbye kiss.

"Kyle, to be honest, I don't want you to drive home the way you are. You've been hit and stuff and you look really tired. Okay. If I sleep with you in this bed, can you promise that there won't be any funny business?"

Feigning an innocent look, complete with palms put together, as if in prayer, he said, "Yes. No, funny business. I promise," then quickly remembering, "What if Lara saw us?"

"Nah. She always wakes up later than I do. Don't worry."

We started undressing to our underwear. Kyle liked to sleep only in his boxers - a little factoid I found out the night - or early morning - he called me from Orchard Street. "Uh, you don't mind, do you?" He asked, apprehensively.

"No, go ahead."

I, on the other hand, was more conservative in my sleep wear. I kept my shirt on.

Though it was a double, it seemed inevitable that a foot would touch a calf, a hand would touch a back. Each time it happened, we'd apologize bashfully.

It happened quite a lot - so much that we probably weren't going to get any sleep because we were busy apologizing to each other.

"Os, this isn't working."

"I know." I answered.

"Why fight it?"

"Kyle," I started. I was scared. I didn't really want to go through with it just yet.

Besides, I didn't want to embarrass myself.

Feeling my face flush, I whispered, slowly. "Kyle, I'm not ready yet."

"I'm not talking about sex, stupid. I just want to hold you. Is that okay?"

"Oh." I didn't want to embarrass myself still I ended up doing so. It's a great talent, really. Does wonders for the ego. "Okay, I guess."

Flipping over to face me, he slowly reached under my side and pulled me to him.

This time he didn't smell like alcohol or smoke.

It made me even more uneasy. I started chuckling nervously.

"What's wrong?," he said, softly. "Not comfortable?"

I tried adjusting myself, turning my back so that he could hold me from behind.

"Better?"

At least with my back to him, he couldn't see my discomfort. "Yeah."

For a while we just lay like that, enjoying each other's warmth. "You know, you're pretty sturdy for a geek."

"I'm not a geek."

"Whatever you are, you're pretty... what's the word? Firm?"

"Well, I have to run from building to building, up and down the stairs in school, right?"

"Smart." He kissed me softly on my neck.

"No funny business," I protested.

"It was just a kiss. I promise, nothing more than that."

Again, we were quiet for a while. The moonlight, mixed with streetlight, streamed in through my windows. There weren't any blinds, curtains or drapes on them. Just clear glass.

It was quiet outside.

"Is that a telescope?" He asked.

"Yeah, it is." I had a pretty large telescope sitting beside the windows. It was white with black rings.

"Does it work?" He was whispering. I could understand why. If he talked any louder, I'd have gotten mad. He was just about speaking directly into my ear.

"Nope. The mirror or something got broken."

"Oh," he said. "why don't you have it fixed?"

"No one could fix it anymore. The store dad got it from closed down."

"Oh," was all he said, as if expecting something more.

"It was a gift from my dad when I was younger. As a kid, I loved Astronomy. Stars, planets. Things like that. I even had this dream of visiting Saturn and never coming back."

Saturn - the ringed planet. To me that was the most beautiful of all the planets in the solar system. In my childish fantasies, it was as if whoever lived there were protected by the broad, brilliant rings.

"Never?"

"Never."

"Why?"

I took me a while to answer. "I guess I used to think that there was nothing left for me here." Yes. I have to admit. Even as a child, I wanted to leave.

"Used to?" He asked curiously.

Again, I shifted my weight, turning around to face him.

In the dim light, I could still make out his features - his eyes, his nose, his lips. The cut on his eyebrows. The bruise on his cheek.

"Yeah," I said, as tenderly as I could, "used to."

And I kissed him softly before nuzzling up to him and falling asleep.

I pretty much got used to frying stuff in the morning. Kyle came padding out my room, wearing his boxers and a shirt I loaned him.

"Smells good."

Grinning back at him, I asked, "Seeing as I'm a bit busy, maybe you can tour the house yourself. Just shout if you have questions. And don't go into Lara's room. She's still asleep."

"Okay."

Actually, there wasn't much to see. The living room opened up to the dining room and kitchen so well that there wasn't really any demarcation where one ended and the other began. If someone had asked me, "where is the boundary between the living room and the dining room?", it was like he was asking me "where does the tail of a snake start?"

To the side was a door that lead to the 2-car garage. The only other door in that living/dining room was the entrance of the house itself.

Plodding out the front door, he looked up, "Os, what's this mirror thing?"

Ba gua? I didn't know what to call it actually. It was a red polygonal piece of wood with a circular mirror in the middle. "It's supposed to repel evil spirits, I think."

Even if we were just half-Chinese, our house was littered with Feng Shui paraphernalia, if I could call it that. I didn't really believe in things like that but they did kind of work like a security blanket. We even had a little altar at the top of the stairs with incense holders, statues of three men - who are supposed to represent longevity, plentitude and... I forgot.

Pretty ironic, considering we were Catholics.

Tiptoeing up the stairs, looking around my parents room. I could hear his footsteps from below, the thumps providing a semi-steady beat to the sizzle of the frying pan.

"Kyle, breakfast's ready!"

"You know," he said from the stairs, "we're making a lot of noise. I think we woke your sister up."

We sat opposite each other. "Nah, Lara usually wakes up at lunch."

"Really? I heard some movement in her room."

True enough, while we were munching on our Sunday breakfast (ham and eggs, fried rice), Lara came shuffling down the steps, fully dressed, about ready to leave.

"Hey, where're you going?" She didn't even look my way. Frustrated, I walked up to her. "Want breakfast?"

To say the least, she wasn't amused. "Ossie, don't ever embarrass me in front of my friends again."

Whoa. "Well, good morning to you, too! I only yanked you from a would-be orgy for your own good."

"Just leave the partying to me. Go live your nerdy life. It works better that way."

This time, she didn't laugh it off the way she did with mom.

I was about to agree with her: I didn't want this to blow out of proportion. Besides, if she didn't want me to be her older brother, then I had better things to do.

"Hey," Kyle spoke up after downing a mouthful, "that's not fair. He was doing what he thought was right." Before he was done, Kyle stood beside me.

"A lot you should know," Spitefully, she countered, "Who're you to say that? You used to sleep around with almost anyone."

Kyle was about to say something, but stopped. All he had was a face that said 'guilt' all over it.

Leaving me with the bitter aftertaste of an argument, she stormed out.

We stood there, immobile, staring at the door.

"Os," Kyle started. "Os, it's not as bad as what she said."

Before he could continue, I cut in. I didn't want to hear what else he had to say, "Kyle, it's okay. I expected that as much." Realizing that it sounded tactless, I quickly added, "It's not like I'd expected you to have had lots of sex before, but, I guess, you know, with your lifestyle, I guess I somehow knew you were experienced. At least at fooling around."

This time I didn't find it irritating that he didn't look at me. It was only fair. I couldn't look at him myself. Directly.

"But I didn't tell you."

"Kyle," taking in a large breath, I tried to look at him squarely in the face, holding his chin up, trying to force him to do the same. "Just let it go. It's okay."

"You sure?"

I nodded.

But how 'okay' is it ever to be in a situation like that? To find out your significant other - well more like your 'special friend' - liked fooling around?

Maybe it was especially bad for me since he was my first.

Ever.

First relationship. First date. First kiss.

I didn't know what to make of it. I mean, I was sort of expecting it. But my expectations didn't cushion the blow.

"Oh, okay," he tried to smile. "Hey, I was wondering if we could go out later?"

I didn't even think much before answering.

"Sorry, Kyle. I have stuff to do. Maybe next time."

Though I didn't have much stuff to do, I ended up working the whole day, eventually realizing that there was a large flaw in dealing with stress by pouring on even more stress.

Since that Sunday morning, Lara and I haven't really talked. Many times I felt relieved when she wasn't home - and many times I try to find even more work at school just to get home late and avoid her.

The regular sem had started.

My birthday that year fell on a Saturday. All week I successfully fended off my mother's suggestions at throwing a party, "even a simple one, Osmond?" And I knew her other suggestion - "maybe you could go with Lara to her party?" - wasn't going to work either. My sister was somewhere out, again.

"But what are you going to do here, alone?" She had somewhere to go to. For some reason, my mother seemed to be sneaking out a lot more than usual.

"Mom, I think I have a few things to type up. Don't worry about me."

"Okay, honey. See you. Happy birthday!" Before stepping into the cab, she called back, "Don't forget to wear the red shirt I gave you!"

That morning, she gave me a bright red polo shirt. For luck. She cooked noddles. For long life. And bought round fruits. For wealth.

It's funny how she isn't Chinese but seemed even more Chinese than me.

'A few things to type up.' Few was right. I was done by lunch - although I did welcome the quiet downtime for myself.

Those days I rarely had moments like that.

Moments I feel everyone should be entitled to once in a while.

Kyle had greeted me the day before, saying something about having somewhere to go to right on my birthday. Although I wanted to see him, I didn't want to be petty.

Besides, people were starting to talk. It's not like we were the closest of friends before - quite the opposite really. Then, all of a sudden, with the exit of summer, we were suddenly riding home with each other, meeting up with each other.

Though we'd meet up in secret, walls seemed to have mouths, and the ground seemed to have ears.

Walking around, feeling the sheer bliss of not doing anything, half-asleep, half-daydreaming around the house.

It was relaxing.

But the jarring buzz of the doorbell quickly snapped me back to reality.

It literally gave me a jolt. I wasn't expecting anyone.

And I was even more surprised to see Kyle there, a box of pizza in one hand, two intricately wrapped cartons in the other.

"Hello."

"Kyle? What are you doing here?"

"I told you, I had to go somewhere." He smiled. "Since I knew you'd be working, I'll work with you."

He seemed quite satisfied with himself and I didn't know how to tell him so I just came out with it, "Actually, I'm all done."

"You are? Great! Now we can work a bit more."

Puzzled, I gaped at him. Him? Work? And sounding excited to?

Marching into the house, he suddenly remembered, "Oh, before anything else, happy birthday," offering me the two boxes.

"Kyle, you didn't have to."

Softly, he answered, "I wanted to."

Yeah, he still had the power to make me red whenever he wanted. "Thanks."

Carefully removing the tape - he held back his giggles seeing as I did almost everything, even unwrapping gifts, systematically - I found the first box contained a dark blue shirt.

"Kyle, this looks expensive," Worried to accept, yet worried to offend him, "I don't know if I can accept this."

"Os, it's a gift." He smiled. "Besides, for everything you've given me, that's small."

I smiled back, weakly, while opening the second one.

And the second one - it was a box of glow in the dark stickers, shaped like little stars. It came with an astronomical map of the night sky of the northern and southern hemispheres.

"Kyle..."

From where he sat, he just beamed. "I tried looking for someone who could fix your telescope, but I couldn't find anyone. So, I did the next best thing. You like it?"

"Like it? Wow. I don't know what to say. I mean... thanks." I muttered.

"C'mon, let's put them up."

Soon he was helping me haul a ladder up the steps and into my room, walking around, putting stuff all at one side.

With me.

I had a ruler and a tape measure, trying to measure the size of the ceiling relative to that of the floor.

"What're you doing?"

"I want to do this right."

He chuckled. "You know, it'll still look good even without being precise."

"Hah!," I laughed, "Well, I'll tell you what, why don't you do half of my ceiling and I'll do the other half?"

And so that's what happened. For one half of the room, I carried the ladder around, supporting it while he climbed up to stick stickers at random. Of course, his side took much less time to fill than mine.

And the whole job probably took much longer than it should've since I was busy feeling embarrassed at staring into his shorts when he was up the ladder, or when he was staring into my shorts when I was up the ladder.

We needed comfy wear. And we needed someone to support the ladder.

Once in a while, I would slip off a step and we'd laugh about how clumsy I was getting. He'd make a smart quip about how I was really getting old. Sometimes he'd drop a star and say, 'Hey, falling star. Make a wish.' And I'd say, 'it's not falling star but shooting star, dummy.' God how corny.

When we were done, one side looked almost exactly like one side of the star map that came with the stickers; the other looked like... glow in the dark stickers on a ceiling. But eventually, I couldn't really tell which parts I did and which parts he did.

It was beautiful - especially that night. In spite of the light sloping at a downward angle into my room, the stickers released a soft glow. They sat, as if humming a soft song from far away.

I could go stargazing in my own room. I wished Kyle could've been there to share it with me.

"Os, can we talk?"

The Management Association's president, Marc, came up to me as people were shuffling out of our routine weekly meeting.

"Sure, what's up?"

He looked concerned about something. "Os, is everything all right?"

I, for one, didn't know where this was coming from. "Yeah. Why'd you ask?"

Pausing for a while, gathering his thoughts, he started, "You've definitely proven your loyalty to the org in the past." That couldn't be bad, now could it? "But recently, your participation has been dropping."

Oh. So this was what it was about.

"Marc, I'm sorry. It's just that," I have someone now? I couldn't tell him that, "I've been busy with other work too." Since he sounded sincere, I didn't want to be spiteful.

"I understand," he continued, "It's just that, as secretary of the org, you're supposed to be at all meetings and events." I nodded. But I missed out on just one or two. "Your participation in the org is still quite something, considering you have other orgs and the council, too. In fact, it's even better than that of other members. But you never used to skip out on us." Slowly, as if trodding on broken glass, he finally said, "I'm just wondering if things are okay with you."

On my way home, his short speech reverberated in my head. Dropping participation? I knew my grade point average was going down, if only by tenths. But I didn't realize my org positions were suffering, either.

Maybe I did miss out on a few meetings or events. One or two.

But I never missed out on anything before.

And nothing was wrong.

Driving home, I felt stressed. I mean, I had to spend time with Kyle, too.

It was about giving way. But I wasn't willing to sacrifice so much.

He wasn't either.

We were doomed from the beginning, it seemed.

When I got home, I just wanted to get my shoes and socks off and jump in bed. Maybe look at the stars for a while, before drifting off to sleep.

It was dark out. I heard that a storm was going to hit in the morning.

"Osmond?" Knocking on my door, my mom poked her head in.

"Yes, mom?"

"Osmond, can I talk to you a bit?" I hit me as strange. My mother never came into my room to talk. She'd usually, literally, traipse in, regally - and importantly - announcing that we'd have some place to go to and that I should wear this and that.

"Okay."

Crawling, pushing myself to sit up, I watched her sit near my foot. Looking up she said something about how pretty the stars looked.

We both were silent for a while.

"Osmond," she began, her voice a bit shaky. "Osmond, I'm getting an annulment. Your father is having an affair."