South Padre Island (c) 2006 Ingenious
This is a work of fiction, depicting teenage males in romance and/or sexual positions. The people depicted in this story (to the best of the author's knowledge) do NOT exist... in the rare case that they're based on real people, the names HAVE been changed...
If you are under 18 years of age (or whatever the legal age in your area is) you may not be legally allowed to read this story. Your call.
Also, if you are repulsed by the concept of homosexual romance and/or sex, please feel free to leave at any time. In fact, now would be a good time. But hey, it's your call, of course... I can't make you leave, either... but if you choose to stay, feel free... who knows, you might even change your mind! My only question is: why are you here if that's the case?
Please feel free to email me with your comments/suggestions. My email is: uaingenious@yahoo.com.
SHIT. I just woke up and realized I slept through my alarm again. Mr K is going to be so pissed at me. If I leave now, i'll be 10 minutes late, which means an official tardy, so I take my time showering and make myself some toast for breakfast. No need to stress out, right? By the time I pull into the school parking lot, it's 9:30 and I'm half an hour late. But something's off. Practically the whole school is standing outside, and I see Travis with his Spanish class under a tree. I pull up next to him:
"What's up man?"
-- "Not a lot, someone called in a bomb threat so we're all waiting for them to check it out.. Are you just getting here?" he asks.
"Yep, I was already late so I took my time. Slept in again. I was so fucking tired last night, I passed out with my jeans on!"
-- "Ah, well I guess you're lucky," says Travis. "I don't think they're taking roll this morning with all this nonsense."
"Gnarly" I reply, mocking the overused skater slang term from the 90s, which draws a smile from Trav. I pull into a spot and hop out, leaving my stereo on, playing Muse, a British rock band just loud enough for the people nearby to hear. Normally I wouldn't do this, but Travis loves Muse, and nobody would dare tell me to turn it off, not with him listening. No way.
We sit there listening to most of the CD, before his teacher shows up and tells everyone that school is cancelled for the day, making this the start of a long weekend and, consequently, the best day ever. Finally, I get to sleep in, have a leisurely morning, show up late to school, and get away with it. I did feel kind of bad that I was benefiting from some asshole pretending there was a bomb, but it happens from time to time and it just worked out in my favor today.
"Helloooooooo?" Travis says, waving his hand in front of my eyes. I realize I haven't been listening to a word he said, so focused on the solo in track 5 and my good fortune today that I was in a completely different world.
"Huh?" I ask dumbly.
-- "I asked if you can give me a ride, Jenna is in San Antonio, checking out a college there," Travis said.
"Sure, lets hit it," I say and away we go. I recommend we head to the city to play some arcade games, a favorite pastime of ours over the last few years, and Travis agrees almost instantly.
-- "So did you find someone to come to Padre with us yet?" he asks, to which i just shake my head. "Well, do you even want to come?"
"Of course, man! That sounds like so much fun, I just don't know who to bring."
-- "Why not bring your skate buddy, Sam?"
"I figured you wanted me to bring a girl or something.. I dunno"
-- "Nah, doesn't really matter, it's not like you're gay!"
"HAHAHAHAHAA" ... oh shit, did I just laugh too hard? What if he thinks I'm gay? Just relax, see what he says.
-- "But really, bring anyone, or just come along, you won't be a third wheel. We already got a hotel on the beach. It should be a fuckin blast."
"Sure thing, man!" I say enthusiastically, as we pull up to the arcade and stroll in, both looking like something out of a magazine, rather, a couple of magazines. We don't really look like we belong together, me being skatered out and him looking preppy as usual, not that that matters.