DISCLAIMER
The following story is completely fictitious and any resemblances to persons living or dead are entirely coincidental. Just as in life, this story contains graphic scenes of love and hate, life and death, joy and sorrow, as well as material that may be offensive to some audiences. If such material makes you feel uncomfortable, then please read no further than this warning.
Send questions and comments to thatguywhowritesniftysmut@gmail.com
NOLAN - CHAPTER THREE
Nothing else existed in the world except Dylan and Nolan. No sound except for Dylan's heavy breathing, no sight except the still and cold boy before him. Dylan's mind could not rationalize thought into words, only need into action. His instincts took control of his body. He felt for a pulse but found none. He felt for breathe and was answered with a stillness that scared him. He could see the remnants of blood from Nolan's nose trail down the right side of his face.
Beginning compressions on Nolan's chest the older boy kept a steady rhythm. He could feel the chest of the small figure beneath him concave with each compression as Dylan desperately tried to get Nolan's heart beating again. After 30 compressions he moved over to Nolan's head and plugging the small boy's nose and, tilting his head to clear the airway, he attempted to breathe life back into the precious child. After a few breaths, Dylan began compressions once again.
He continued the cycle three more times before he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Instinctively he whipped around, his eyes blurred with tears. He could see the twins crying in the distance somewhere, a large group of people around him on the side of the pool, and in front of him the lifeguard who had allowed all this to happen.
"Dylan man... I'm sorry..." Troy began to say before Dylan's left hook landed right in his stomach followed by a powerful hit to the face with his right. No one in the crowd moved to stop Dylan, not even Troy's girlfriend who had been the source of distraction in the first place.
Breathing heavily from the exertions both physical and emotional, Dylan turned back around to the still body of Nolan lying on the ground, his wet swimming trunks plastered to his small frame. With great effort, Dylan moved back over the boy and began compressions once again. He couldn't stop. He was not allowed. Some outside force seemed to be lending him the energy to continue. He knew Nolan couldn't leave him, not like this. Nolan had promised.
"You... made... a... promise... to... me... you... little... fuck!" Dylan panted with each compression, "If... you... still... love... me... you... will... breathe!"
"What do you mean?'" Nolan asked quizzically.
He and Dylan had spent the better part of the night talking about various things in Nolan's life and Dylan's past. Nolan learned that Dylan's parents had been drug addicts and that they had lost custody of him when police raided the apartment they were cooking meth in. Luckily Dylan, who was three at the time, had been alright. He bounced around from foster home to foster home, but eventually made his way to the Richardson's when he was ten and had been there ever since. Nolan also learned Dylan was a freshman in high school, was a pretty good student, was on the soccer team, but also played basketball with his friends in the park.
Dylan had learned that Nolan really had been all over the place, but not in the way he had expected. He said he didn't really remember much about his parents, except that his mom had been a Japanese-American and his father had been some kind of gang leader. He said he was told that his mom died when he was about four, but he couldn't remember. He lived with his dad and some of their friends for a while until one day his dad just dropped him off at a firehouse. Nolan couldn't remember what his dad looked like, just that he smelled of gunpowder and leather, like an outlaw.
After being left at the firehouse and trying to adapt to life in a foster home, Nolan ended up running away because the foster dad tried to do stuff with him. Nolan was vague, but Dylan could tell what he was implying. After running away, Nolan lived on the streets for a long time, dodging police and social services. Some of the stories Nolan told Dylan seemed hard to believe, but Nolan had never lied to Dylan before and it felt like he was painting a beautiful picture in Dylan's head.
After explaining he had made his way from Chicago to Jacksonville to New York avoiding authorities, he was finally caught by this one officer, Officer Whitfield, who picked him up while he had been on patrol. It was a struggle, and Nolan had almost gotten away from him a couple times, but eventually the policeman forced Nolan to make a promise not to run away.
"Yeah," Dylan asked again, "Why would a promise stop you?"
Nolan laughed a little bit.
"You can't break a promise once you make it. It is unbreakable." Nolan finally said, emphasizing each word.
Dylan thought it over for a minute before he asked another question.
"So wait, what did that police officer make you promise?"
"Oh," Nolan replied, "he made me promise I wouldn't run away anymore, and that I needed to always be tied to someone or someplace, so I couldn't runaway."
"Really?" Dylan asked.
"Yeah," Nolan explained, "But, since I made the promise, I'm not a runaway anymore."
The logic was there, but Dylan had a hard time believing that a smart kid like Nolan would be stopped simply because of a promise. Then again, Nolan wasn't an average kid. He was special and maybe that came with a price. Maybe he needed to believe in the unbreakable power of a promise. Dylan thought about the idea of an unbreakable promise and smiled to himself. If such a thing existed, it surely had to be one of the last bits of real magic left in the world.
"So... you are tied to this officer?" Dylan asked, trying to hammer out the kinks in Nolan's reasoning.
"No, not anymore. You see, it transfers, kind of like a leash." Nolan said a little disheartened, "It started with the officer, and then it went to my case worker. She was really nice and always treated me like an adult. She didn't talk down to me. She helped me get back into the system, but with good people to look after me this time. Than after her, it was transferred to Fiona Applegate, a local social worker here. Then, when she left, she transferred me to the Richardsons."
"So, what? Now Mr. and Mrs. Richardson hold the leash?" Dylan asked in disbelief that any person could ever have control like that over another human being.
"No, Mrs. Richardson transferred me over to you. You hold `the leash.'" Nolan said simply.
Dylan was dumbstruck.
"Wait... what?"
"Remember, Mrs. Richardson put you in charge of looking after me, so I am bound to you by my promise. I cannot leave you. Not even if I wanted to, which... don't get me wrong; I don't want to leave you, even without the promise."
Dylan ran the entire scenario through his head. It seemed ridiculous. Why would an eleven-year-old be bound to him, a freshman in high school? What did that binding even mean to Nolan? Dylan decided he definitely didn't want to force Nolan to do anything he didn't want to, but obviously this whole unbreakable promise thing was a bigger deal than he realized. He needed to figure out how to undo it, but without hurting Nolan's feelings.
"Okay, so you are bound to me by your word to not leave me, right?" Dylan asked confirming the details.
Nolan nodded.
"But, what if, since I am the one you are bound to, I told you it is alright to not be bound by the promise anymore? Like... the promise doesn't need to be in effect anymore since Officer Whitfield originally used it to keep you from running away so you could see there was a place for you to be safe, like here?" Dylan asked helpfully.
Nolan seemed to think seriously for a few minutes.
"Since you are the one I am bound to, if you said the promise had been kept and was done, than... I wouldn't be bound anymore... I could go anywhere I wanted and do anything I wanted because I would no longer be held by the promise..." Nolan said with equal parts awe and fear.
"But..." Dylan quickly added, "what would you do if I let you go? If I said the promise was done, what would you do? Would you run away and leave me?"
Nolan thought about Dylan's question for more time than Dylan thought would be necessary. Maybe the kid really did want to run away. After all he said he had been all over and seemed to do alright on his own.
"I... I honestly don't know..." Nolan finally admitted quietly to himself, snuggling into the covers.
Dylan thought it over for a long time. Finally he made a decision.
"Nolan," he said in a calm but sure voice, "you have kept your promise to me. You are not bound by it anymore. However, I ask you to make a new promise with me."
Dylan looked over at Nolan who was now looking back intently into his eyes next to him.
"I ask that you promise me you won't leave me until you find someone you love more than me, but that regardless you will always think of me as family."
Nolan smiled.
"I promise, I won't leave you so long as love is in my heart for you, and that you will always be a part of my family." Nolan dedicated himself.
Maybe magic did exist, Dylan thought to himself. If it did, he wouldn't be at all surprised to find it hiding in a promise.
The next day was Monday, and it would be Nolan's first day of school. Mrs. Richardson, a veteran of foster care and the problems foster children have entering a new learning environment, had decided prior to enrolling Nolan in school to have him tested academically. The Sylvan Learning Center she worked at had the facilities and resources to get an accurate assessment of Nolan's knowledge and learning potential. Dressed in his new clothes and somewhat less timid than when he had first arrived, she walked him through the door of the small building that served as home for the Sylvan staff. Clutching one of his puzzle books to his chest, they were both warmly greeted by Ginger and Allan.
"Nolan, this is Ginger, she is my assistant here at Sylvan and will be helping to run the exams today, and this is Allan, he is one of our part-time teaching assistants and actually teaches at Dylan's high school when not working here." Mrs. Richardson explained, introducing the two new people.
Nolan could see that Ginger was clearly beautiful, dark mocha skin with beautifully bright blue eyes. Her smile seemed to brighten up the whole room. Allan, who seemed to be of average height and build, was equally friendly, but his blue eyes seemed to be a more stormy color, which Nolan found fascinating.
"Nolan, if you come with me I'll get started with the first part of your exam. It will be held in the testing room right over here." Ginger explained, directing him towards a bright and welcoming windowed room.
Looking to Mrs. Richardson for assurance, she nodded and he followed Ginger back to the testing room.
"Cute kid." Allan commented after Nolan and Ginger had left, "How's he holding up at the Richardson homestead?"
"Pretty good, Allan." Mrs. Richardson said, smiling. "He has taken a real shining to Dylan, that's for sure."
"That's a surprise," Allan added, moving over to one of the reception counters and starting to make a hot chocolate, "he is usually so standoffish, even for a teenager. He is popular at school and has girls swarming all over him, but he never really seems to engage anyone. Don't get me wrong, he has friends and is well adjusted, just doesn't really seem to care."
"Well," Mrs. Richardson said, letting the words hang a while, "I'm not sure if girls are really what Dylan is interested in. He might fall more into your area of expertise. For that matter, I'd like you to keep an eye on Nolan today. I know it's not your place to judge and decide for these boys who or what they are, but I feel like maybe Dylan and Nolan are getting closer to each other in more ways than one."
"And, how does that make you feel?" Allan asked, taking a tentative sip of his hot chocolate.
"I love Dylan. He is my son and nothing will ever change that. I also love Nolan and even though it has only been a few days, I feel like he is really growing close to the family. I would hate to do anything that would make any feelings they might have for one another... feel unnatural."
Allan raised an eyebrow.
"You'd be okay if Dylan and Nolan messed around?" Allan asked pointedly, stirring some sugar into his drink.
"Well, I mean, I certainly would feel better it not happening in my house, but as it is... it is one of the safest places for anything to happen. I just wish I knew how to handle something like this. At least with Sam and Max I don't have to worry about anything going on between them."
Allan silently rolled his eyes.
"With Dylan and Nolan..." she continued, "I don't know how I feel just yet. I love them both, and I want them to be happy..."
"I'm going to stop you right there Mrs. P." Allan interrupted, "It is very common in young boys to experiment with members of the same sex. In some cases this might lead to a better understanding of a homosexual nature, but in most it is simple experimentation and a mutual figuring out of how to create good feelings. Dylan and Nolan have known each other for like a few days, right? It might be a little early to decide whether or not they are planning to be soul mates or not. Tell you what, though, I'll ask Nolan after he is done testing."
Allan just grinned at Mrs. Richardson.
"Allan Shepherd, you will do no such thing." Pam replied in mock horror.
"But hey, tell you what, Nolan is a little young for the center, but if you wanted Dylan to come down and maybe talk to someone, let's say for Nolan's sake since he might be displaying some homosexual tendencies, let me know. You could always tell him you are concerned Nolan is going to want to ask questions and that Dylan is going to be the only one he would be willing to trust. Plus, I could load him up with condoms just in case they decide to..."
"Allan!" Mrs. Richardson gasped.
"What?" he played if off as if it were nothing, "just saying... be prepared."
"Isn't that the boy scout motto?" Mrs. Richardson asked skeptically.
"Sure is." Allan smiled, "Best years of my life being a boy scout. Got my Eagle you know."
"Yes, I know." Mrs. Richardson replied. "I was there, remember? I believe my husband and I presented you a pin?"
"Too bad if I told them I was gay they would take it away from me. Of course, I think that is one of those things you can't really take away from someone in the first place, since it is earned."
"I agree whole-heartedly." Mrs. Richardson echoed.
"Look," Allan said, putting down his hot chocolate and placing a warmed hand on top of her own, "I know you, and you've been nothing but good to anyone who has ever needed your help; myself included. I'll keep a feeler out for Nolan today and help him any way I think I can, but you might want to talk to Dylan or at least bring him down to Haven to check things out. If anything he will know where to go if he has questions you think he might be uncomfortable bringing to you. Plus, I know my kids, and I know Dylan, they will get along really well."
"Thank you, Allan." Mrs. Richardson smiled back, "I think I will talk with Dylan tonight."
As the day moved on, Ginger administered the evaluation exams for Nolan, while Mrs. Richardson caught up on some paperwork, and Allan organized the shelves. After a couple hours of testing interjected with a few 10 minute breaks, Ginger began running the test results while Nolan helped Allan with a puzzle in the activity area. Neither one really said much of anything as they pieced together the large 10,000 piece puzzle that had been a week long project many people had helped with during breaks in lessons. For what it was worth neither Nolan nor Allan seemed to mind the silence.
Allan Shepherd had been working with kids almost his entire life. He was naturally gifted with an empathetic nature which some had understandably mistaken for true supernatural empathy. While still in high school he had been hired by a private company as a consultant of sorts, which he did not talk about very much, but after graduating from college, he moved back home. Finding work at his old high school as an English teacher and guidance councilor, he soon began volunteering down at a youth center called Haven. The center was a safe place for gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transgendered, and questioning youth and their allies. It had been only recently that Allan had offered his unique services to the Sylvan Learning Center run and operated locally.
In his mid-twenties, Allan had a very youthful nature about him still, and people, children especially, seemed to enjoy his presence. At only 5'7" and around 160 pounds, Allan wasn't very intimidating and didn't standout in any way, and his short brown hair and stormy blue eyes allowed him to blend into the background when needed. He used these qualities and his nonthreatening manner to position himself in places where he could observe and maneuver, helping others to the fullest extent of his abilities. Also, it had been said, that he possessed the ability to give life altering hugs.
As Allan and Nolan pieced the puzzle together, Allan could hear Ginger and Mrs. Richardson talking in the back room. While the noise was muffled slightly, he could tell they were talking about Nolan's test results and the conversation didn't seem to be completely positive.
"Nolan?" Mrs. Richardson called coming from around the corner of one of the far offices, "Can you come here a moment, honey?"
Nolan put the piece he had been trying to find a home for down and got up from the table. Allan could feel the slightest hint of fear in his movement, as if he was afraid he had done something wrong.
"No worries, little guy. I'm sure it's just a technical error or something." Allan said with an encouraging smile.
Nolan returned the smile and moved over to Mrs. Richardson where she explained they had a computer problem and needed Nolan to take the tests again. While Nolan seemed a little dismayed that he had to spend another two hours filling out paperwork, Mrs. Richardson explained that this time they would give a verbal test instead. Mrs. Richardson also motioned for Allan to come over, as he would be administrating the verbal test to Nolan. When she mentioned that, Nolan brightened a little.
"So why don't you go make yourself comfortable in the testing room while I get the papers Mr. Shepherd needs for the test together." Mrs. Richardson said as Allan moved closer.
"Tell you what, Nolan. How about I make you a hot chocolate for while I give you your test?" Allan offered.
"Hot chocolate?" Nolan asked, "But, isn't it like summer? I thought hot chocolate was only for when it was cold out?"
Allan gave Nolan a peculiar look.
"Hot chocolate... when it's cold out?" Allan asked dumbfounded, "Never heard of such a crazy thing..."
Nolan just giggled as Allan rubbed his chin contemplating hot chocolate in the cold.
"Well, I suppose you could if you were desperate enough, but it truly boggles the mind. That settles it, though, I'm going to make us both some hot chocolate, but first I have to get my stuff together. Why not head into the testing room while I get things settled and then I can bore you to death with this verbal testing nonsense."
"Kay," Nolan said simply as he light-heartedly skipped towards the testing room.
Mrs. Richardson and Allan both watched him leave and waited until he was out of earshot to speak.
"Let me guess, high school, right?" Allan asked simply.
Mrs. Richardson looked up at Allan a bit dumbfounded.
"We ran the scores through the computer, and other than a couple areas, he is operating in a 9th through 10th grade level. How did you know?" Mrs. Richardson asked.
"Well, it's obvious he is smart for his age, any teacher worth their salt would see that. I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say the couple of areas he is trailing behind on are vocabulary and social studies. His math should be right up there I'd say."
Mrs. Richardson continued to be astounded at Allan's spot-on analysis of Nolan.
"Can I at least ask you how you knew all this, obviously before I told you his scores?"
"Sure." Allan grinned, "You see, I noticed the puzzle book he brought with him today to work on during the break periods. Did you?"
Mrs. Richardson nodded.
"Did you notice anything else about the puzzle book?" Allan asked.
"Not particularly. Why?"
"Well, for starters, it may have been published a few years ago, but the thing has over 1,000 mathematical puzzles in it, all of which consist of equations meant for someone in 8th grade or higher. Also, there's the fact that during the last break he only decided to help me with the big puzzle over there because he finished the whole book, which he told me he got yesterday."
Mrs. Richardson's mouth was slightly ajar, so Allan kindly fixed it for her.
"You are running the second verbal test only to confirm or deny his original test scores, which are more than likely accurate. He is a sharp kid, at least when it comes to picking up new information I'd say, but as far as social interaction and common sense, he is a bit stunted. We could definitely work with him on vocabulary and social studies here, get him up to a 9th grade level before school starts next week I'd even say, but the real question is, what is best for him?"
Recollecting herself, Mrs. Richardson nodded. Allan was right after all, Nolan was smart, much smarter than anyone had previously believed. However, would it be irresponsible to move him up almost four whole grades?
"Either way that is something you have to sort out for yourself, and I don't envy you that. I, on the other hand have to go make some hot chocolate. I have an adorable genius waiting for me." Allan smiled and excused himself.
As predicted, Nolan's verbal test resulted in roughly the same test scores, and there was no denying that the 5th grade was not for Nolan. Mrs. Richardson and Allan sat down with Nolan afterwards and explained to him what they found out, and half of the problem was convincing Nolan just how smart he really was. The other half was deciding what to do about his schooling. After a long deliberation, Mrs. Richardson finally asked Nolan what he wanted to do.
"If I were to go into 9th grade, I'd get to go to school with Dylan, right?" Nolan asked.
"There would be another set of tests you would have to take, and you wouldn't necessarily have all the same classes, but it would be the same school as Dylan, yes." Mrs. Richardson answered.
Nolan smiled.
"I think we have a winner." Allan observed.
That night Mr. and Mrs. Richardson, Dylan, Nolan, Sam, and Max had an important family meeting over fettuccini chicken Alfredo. There, Nolan broke the news that he would not be going to the same school as the twins, but would instead be starting at Dylan's high school as a freshman next week when classes resumed from their short break.
"This is stupid. Nolan can't be in high school, he is only eleven!" Sam cried as Max sat quietly beside his brother.
"Enough of that," Mr. Richardson scolded, "You should be happy for Nolan, this is an opportunity that doesn't come around every day. He has a gift and he needs to be challenged."
"Challenged? He IS challenged!" Sam continued, "Those high school kids are going to eat him alive! I'm just thinking about what is best for him. Has anyone else thought about what it is going to be like for him to be the smallest in his class and instantly labeled a nerd?"
Mrs. Richardson frowned at Sam, bringing such a negative viewpoint to the table.
"It will be alright, I'll be there to make sure people don't pick on him." Dylan interjected defensively.
While Dylan had been shocked at the news, he had been secretly happy because it would mean more time spent with Nolan. He didn't like the notion of people picking on Nolan; he knew he and his friends would help Nolan at school. That was, he hoped his friends would be a help.
"Look, I know high school is a sort of rough and tumble place, but we can talk more about it when it gets closer to the time for Nolan to actually go to school, right Nolan?" Ken asked, directing a question to the boy who silently moved his food around the plate.
"Hey, I have an idea." Mrs. Richardson chimed in, hoping to lighten the mood, "Sam and Max get out early tomorrow, Dylan doesn't have class, and Nolan should be done with his exam and lessons at Sylvan a little after 1:00 pm... why don't you boys go swimming at the pool?"
Everyone seemed to think it over a bit. The twins agreed because they were little water rats that enjoyed swimming. Dylan agreed because he sort of liked the idea of getting to see Nolan playing and being a kid. Nolan agreed because everyone else agreed, and he knew Sam wasn't exactly happy with him at the moment, and anything he could do to make Sam happy sounded good to him.
"Alright then, sounds like a plan." Mr. Richardson said with a smile.
It was noisy and cluttered at the pool. Because of the early out at the junior high schools and some of the high school students still being on break, kids were everywhere. However, Nolan was impressed by the size of the pool. He had never really been to a public pool, per say, but being embarrassed by the twins going on about him never being to a mall before, and not wanted to do anything to make Sam upset with him, he said nothing. He just hoped he didn't do anything wrong.
As the four made their way to the pool, Dylan moaned openly when he saw who was lifeguarding.
"What's wrong, Dylan?" Nolan asked, confused at the older boy's shift in mood.
"It's Troy..." Dylan replied, as if that summed everything up. Luckily, the twins gave Nolan the 411. Moving to either side of the younger boy and lacing their arms around his shoulders, they began to explain the situation.
"You see," Sam began, as each boy traded off sentences, "Troy is in Dylan's class... but they have been rivals for as long as we can remember... each one always trying to outdo the other one... and so when Dylan wanted to get a job as a lifeguard at the pool... well, Troy suddenly wanted to get the job too... and since there was only one opening... and Troy's father pulled some strings... our Dylan here was sorry out of luck... even though he is a stronger swimmer and all around better at CPR... which we can attest to from experience..."
"You guys are never going to let me live down using you as living dummies for practice, are you?" Dylan asked in vein.
Nolan gave Dylan a questionable look.
"Anyway," the twins continued, "It is general consensus... that Dylan should have gotten the job... especially since most of Troy's time on watch... is spent watching for cute girls."
Both twins made a face.
"Anyways, come on, Nolan. You can come with me. We will start down here at the shallow end, where it is a little calmer." Dylan suggested, seeing most of the horseplay happening in the middle of the pool. There was probably close to thirty kids in all in the pool area.
"Yeah, you could do that, or... Nolan could come and play with us in the deep end. They have a diving board." Sam offered.
"No, that's okay." Nolan replied with a meek smile, "I should be fine in the shallow end."
Both twins shrugged, and immediately moved towards the deep end of the pool.
Dylan and Nolan got in and found the water to be warm and enjoyable. The few people in the shallow end seemed to give Nolan and Dylan room enough to splash around, but Dylan could tell Nolan wasn't entirely comfortable in the water, moving awkwardly and only going where his feet could touch. Sensing his apprehension, Dylan suggested they get out for awhile and maybe grab something to eat. The food served at the pool was simple, nachos and hot dogs and the like, but it sounded good to Nolan.
As Dylan went off to get some food for them both, he asked Nolan to go check and see if the twins wanted anything from the food bar. Moving along the side of the pool, Nolan could see the lifeguard, Troy, talking to a girl who looked like she tanned too much. He was showing her his muscles, but Nolan thought Dylan's arms looked better than Troy's.
"Hey, Nolan, did you decide to come and play with us down here?" Max asked spotting the younger boy a few feet away, lost in thought.
"Oh, no, Dylan wanted me to see if you wanted anything from the food bar, like nachos or something?" He redirected the question.
Sam appeared at Nolan's side seemingly from out of nowhere.
"Ah, come on, Nolan... just one dive?" Sam asked pressuring Nolan a bit.
"No, I think I'm good for right now. Maybe later or some..." Nolan trailed off as the outdoor air finally caught up with him, bringing on what felt like a powerful sneeze.
As Nolan let loose his sneeze, directing it towards the ground, the hand that Sam had brought around from his side to knock Nolan into the water connected with the younger boy's nose, not his chest. The force had been enough to knock Nolan backwards the few feet the twins had planned out, but not the way they had imagined. As Nolan hit the water over the 8 foot mark, the twins watched as his less than buoyant body began to immediately sink towards the bottom. Max could see a trail of blood in the water billowing up from Nolan's nose, as the air bubbles out of Nolan's mouth seemed to go on forever.
Troy was basking in the warmth of the summer day. He had landed a pretty solid gig thanks to his dad, and the added pleasure of getting to rub it in the nose of that foster fuck fag, Dylan Richardson, was icing on the cake. He got to check out cute babes, work on his tan, and he got paid $9.00 an hour to watch kids splash around. Most of the time he'd absentmindedly watch the giant clock and call for a safety check every twenty minutes or whatever, and spend the rest of his time talking to girls. It was harder to cruise for girls now that his girlfriend was here, but he'd make due.
The job was a cake walk; all he had to do was blow his whistle at people who ran around the pool, like this ignorant fuck.
Troy blew the whistle, yelling at the teenager no running, before he realized it was Dylan.
"Well, speak of the fuck..." Troy trailed off as Dylan dove straight into the pool.
Troy watched from his tower as Dylan's dive carried him down to the bottom of the deep end where he grabbed something.
With cold realization, Troy saw Dylan had grabbed someone.
Troy blew his whistle and called for everyone to get out of the pool. He got down from his post and moved to the other side of the pool as he saw Dylan break the surface of the water with some little kid that wasn't moving.
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Troy thought to himself. Some fucking kid just drowned while he was on duty, his dad was going to kill him, and he might even lose his job!
Troy stood nervously on the edge of the crowd of people, moving people back as best he could, while Dylan immediately checked for a pulse. Without warning, Dylan began performing CPR, which Troy was somewhat thankful for... Troy always had trouble remembering that CPR crap.
As Dylan continued to work, Troy noticed those fag twins that live at Dylan's crying like babies as they watched Dylan try and breathe life into the kid. The one seemed to have blood on his hand, but Troy figured he just scrapped himself getting out of the pool.
It seemed like Dylan had been working on the kid forever, and Troy could see how exhausted he appeared to be. The kid was fucking dead. If he was going to come around, he would have already. He heard the sound of sirens in the distance, someone must have called 911.
Shit, he thought to himself, that someone should have been him since he was the lifeguard on duty. Oh well, they were coming so no use worrying about that. He could always tell people later that he had called them.
Moving over closer to Dylan, who had momentarily stopped, Troy put a hand on his trembling shoulder.
"Dylan man... I'm sorry..." was all Troy could get out before Dylan whipped around landing a solid blow into his stomach and following up with a hit to Troy's face.
Troy was sent flying backwards and landed on the hard ground around the pool. He didn't have much time to piece what exactly happened together, but he was definitely angry at... someone... for... something... whoa... that's pretty.
Troy collapsed into darkness.