College Daze (#11)

Chapter 01

(Kyle's Perspective)
       "I don't know," I said.
       We were in the den at Kevin and Rick's house. We were talking about college. I was a freshman, but I already had a bunch of credits. I had taken some Dual Enrollment courses in high school, and that meant I was already a second-semester freshman.
       "I say join 'em, man," Justin said.
       They had fraternities on that college campus, and some of my friends from high school wanted me to join one. It wasn't a national one or anything. It was just a local one. Beta Rho, the BR standing for Beach Rat. That's the kind of thing I'm talking about. Beach Rat Fraternity. A real class act.
       "Goodson, you gotta join," this one boy said to me. He was actually the president of the fraternity.
       "Why?" I asked.
       "Because we like you, and you're one of us, that's why," he said.
       That boy could use the Emerald Beach Grumble just as good as I could. I loved to hear that 'cause then I knew who was who. It was like a secret code or something, almost. I figured in that fraternity they talked like that all the time. It was better than a secret handshake.
       "Yeah, but I'm queer. You know that, don't you?" I said, grumbling back at him.
       "Yeah, everybody knows that. So what? You think you're the only one?" he said. "You're a Beach Rat, and that's what this thing is all about."
       "I'll get back to you, okay?" I said.
       "Okay," he said.
       I called my friend Philip Andrews that night. He and his partner, Ryan Pettis, were freshmen at Florida State in Tallahassee.
       "Kyle, you need to get your ass over here. These parties are un-fucking-believable, man," Philip said.
       "Are y'all having a good time?" I asked.
       "Yeah. We're having a great time. We went to several parties tonight. I'm about half drunk," he said.
       "Half?" I asked.
       He giggled.
       "Well, probably a little bit more than half," he said. "I mean, I got a real good buzz on. What do you want?"
       "I wanted to talk to you about joining a fraternity. You ever heard of Beta Rho?" I asked.
       "Yeah, that's the Beach Rat one. Those boys know how to party, Kyle. Both of my brothers belonged to that one when they went to Emerald Coast. If they're rushing you, you need to join up. That's the best one, man," Philip said.
       "I thought your brothers belonged to that one. They liked it, huh?" I said.
       "They loved it. I tell you what, son. If I was there, I'd join Beta Rho in a heartbeat, and I mean it, Kyle," he said.
       "Why did your brothers go to Emerald Coast, instead of Florida State right away?" I asked.
       "It was all about pussy. They each had a girlfriend they didn't want to leave behind. Neither one of them is with those girls now, but that's what they wanted. My parents wanted them to come over here in the worst way, but they wouldn't hear of it," he said.
       "What are y'all going to pledge?" I asked.
       "Sigma Chi," he said. "That's the one we like the best. Those are the nicest boys we've found, and they're pretty smart, too. Ryan and I are both out to them, and they don't give a fuck. They know we're a gay couple, and they don't care."
       "Congratulations, man. I'm a legacy to Sigma Chi. That was my daddy's fraternity at Florida," I said.
       "I know. He gave me a rec. He gave one to Ryan, too. My daddy was a Sigma Chi at Florida State, so I'm a legacy, too. Ryan's daddy wasn't a frat boy in college. But that's all right," he said. "Kyle, I think you need to join Beta Rho. A good many of those boys are going to spend their lives in Emerald Beach, and you and I are going to need them for business contacts. How many people they got at that college?"
       "It's only about six thousand," I said. "But it's all the same people I've known all my life. I mean, I realize Emerald Coast is a small college and most of the people who go there live here, and all, but I was hoping to broaden my horizons a little," I said.
       "That's a very good point, Kyle," Philip said. "I've only talked to one guy here who grew up in Emerald Beach, and I didn't know him. He went to Crawford High School in town, and he's a sophomore."
       "Where are the rest of them from?" I asked.
       "They're from all over the damn place. From all over the country and all over the world, too. A whole lot are from central and south Florida, but even most of them came from somewhere else. Ryan and I are rare things here since we're both native Florida guys," he said.
       "I probably have ten or twelve people in my classes we went to high school with, but not everybody is somebody I already know. A lot are, though," I said.
       "But you're going to know everybody in the frat, right?" he asked.
       "Pretty much. That's good and bad, though, you know? I mean, a lot of those guys are already my friends, and what you said is true. Most of them are going to be around here the rest of their lives. I don't know what to do," I said.
       "Yeah, but you'll figure something out. Listen, Kyle, I need to piss so bad right now, I'm about to bust. I think we're going to catch a couple more house parties, too, tonight, so I need to run," Philip said.
       "Okay, Bubba. I understand. Good luck in rush," I said.
       "Thanks, but I think it's a piece of cake," he said.
       We told each other goodbye, and I went out into the den. I had been in the study room talking to him.
       "What did Philip say?" Tim asked me when I got out to where they were.
       "He said he thinks I should join Beta Rho," I said.
       "What are your options, Kyle?" Rick asked.
       "What do you mean?"
       "Are other frats wanting you to join?" Rick asked.
       "Not really. I didn't even sign up for rush," I said. "Those Beta Rho guys just spotted me."
       "Do you really want to go Greek?" Kevin asked.
       "Go Greek? What the hell does that mean? Ain't that some kind of pervert stuff?" Justin asked.
       "'Go Greek' means join a fraternity, Bubba," Rick said. "It comes from the Greek letters of their names."
       "Speaking of that, why don't you join with me?" I asked Justin.
       "You're kidding, right?" Justin said.
       "No, I'm not kidding. If I can be in a frat, you can, too. It would be a chance for you to meet some nice guys. They know I'm gay, and they're cool with that. So you being gay ain't going to be a barrier," I said.
       "Jus, you really might enjoy it," Kevin said.
       "Were you and Rick in a fraternity?" Justin asked.
       "I was a GDI," Kevin said.
       "Me, too," Rick said.
       "I never heard of that one," I said. "What do the letters stand for?"
       "God Damn Independent," Rick and Kevin said at the same time.
       We all laughed.
       "A GDI, huh? I think that's what I want to be," Justin said. "But Kyle, I'll think about joining, okay?"
       "Fair enough, Bubba," I said.
       * * *
       I had a little bit of an "encounter" with my parents right before I started college. I had assumed I would work part time, just like Justin and Jeff were doing. I mean, everybody I knew, except my brother, had a part-time job in college, and I thought that's the way it was done. I knew it wasn't required by the college, but I figured that was what you did.
       "Your mama and I hope you'll quit your job when school starts," Daddy said one night in about mid-August. Tim and I were at their house in Destin.
       "Why?" I asked.
       "Because it's too much, that's why," he said.
       "Daddy, I feel like you're firing me, or something," I said. I was really confused, and a little bit hurt, too.
       "I'm not firing you, son. You don't fire good people, and you are definitely good people. We want you to devote your full time and energy to your studies, that's all," he said.
       "I don't get it, Daddy. Everybody I have ever known has worked part time in college, except Clay," I said.
       "Are Philip and Ryan going to work?" he asked.
       "No, sir, but their parents . . .," I said.
       I stopped in mid-sentence because it suddenly became clear to me. They didn't want me to work because it was a social thing for them. Me working sort of implied to the world that I needed the money, and I really didn't. In fact, I got a whole lot of money every month. Much more than I could spend, in fact. I mean, ever since I turned eighteen, I got like a very big salary or something, from my trust fund. That's what that was all about.
       "Finish your statement, son," he said.
       "Daddy, I don't think I have to. I know where you were coming from with that," I said.
       "Their parents are paying for them, son, and your parents are paying for you, too. You don't need a job," he said.
       "But, Daddy, I love to work. I like it a hell of a lot more than I do school," I said.
       "I know you do, but you see where I'm coming from, don't you?" he said.
       "Yes, sir, but this is fuc . . ., er, this is screwed up, don't you think? I mean, I want to work, and you're telling me I can't?"
       "I'm not telling you anything, Kyle. I'm asking you. And I'm not asking you not to work. I'm asking you not to work at a paying job," he said.
       "I don't get what you mean," I said.
       "Volunteer work is real work, Kyle. If you absolutely feel like you have to work, you can do a hell of a lot of good volunteering, son," he said. "Explore some of those avenues. Learn from it. I hope and pray you're going to take over Goodson Enterprises one day, but when you do, you're going to need a variety of experiences to be a really good CEO. Running a business like that is about people, Kyle. That's basically all it is. I've seen you interact with people, and you've got skills and charisma that other people don't have. I want to see you develop those skills, son, and being a bellhop ain't going to do it the way you need for it to be done."
       "What kind of volunteer work could I do?" I asked.
       "There's a whole host of things, son. The elderly. Meals on Wheels. Hospice. The Boys' Club. The hospital. The Boy Scouts. Hell, you'd be a natural in the Boy Scouts," he said.
       "I'm finished with the Boy Scouts," I said. "They don't want me, anyway."
       He sighed deep.
       "I know where you're coming from, Kyle, but that attitude is so wrong," he said.
       "What? My attitude or their attitude?" I asked.
       "Their attitude. Goodson Enterprises doesn't give them a dime anymore," he said. "We used to give a hundred thousand dollars a year to the United Way, designated for the Boy Scouts. Now we give them zero."
       "Who gets it now?" I asked.
       "United Cerebral Palsy, that's who. Guess why," he said.
       I laughed a little.
       "I don't have to guess. I know why," I said.
       "Yeah, I'm sure you do. I'm on their board, too," he said.
       "Gene, what does that mean? To be on an organization's board?" Tim asked.
       "Tim, it varies widely from organization to organization," Dad said. "Typically, it's the Board of Directors. Those are the people who legally control the organization. If the government grants 'tax exempt' status to an organization, they have to have a board of directors who run it. In practice, 99% of the boards I've been on have been rubber stamps for the executives who are in charge of the organizations. They try to get people in the community that they think will either donate money or get their friends to donate money."
       "Are you on a bunch of those?" I asked.
       "Yeah. I don't know the exact count, but it's in the neighborhood of fifteen or so. It's something I've got to do, Kyle, and it's something you'll have to do in the future, too. We're a very big business in Emerald Beach, and it's our moral responsibility to give back to the community. I'm already on about five boards in Destin, too. It doesn't take 'em long to find you," Dad said.
       "Are Kevin and Rick on any of these boards?" I asked.
       "Oh, yeah. They're both on plenty," he said.
       "I didn't know that. Did you?" I asked Tim.
       "No, I didn't," he said.
       "What kind of boards are you talking about, Daddy?" I asked.
       "It's a whole bunch, Kyle. Red Cross, Salvation Army, Boys' Club, Girls' Club, Big Brothers, Big Sisters. Your mama is actually on that one. YMCA. That kind of stuff. The only one I'm on that I take seriously is the hospital board. I was appointed to that by the governor, and that's important," he said. "That, and the College Foundation board. I take that very seriously, too."
       "I didn't know you were on the hospital board," I said.
       "Yeah. I have been for years. Bob Graham appointed me. Do you know who he is?"
       "Yes, sir. He's the man who got us the tickets to the basketball game in Washington, right? I remember Mr. Bob," I said.
       "Yeah, he got you tickets, Kyle, but I'm hoping and praying and working for him to be the next president of the United States, son. He's a good bit more than a source of basketball tickets," he said.
       "Fellas, I think I'm going to excuse myself and go to bed. I'm exhausted," my mother said.
       We all told her goodnight.
       "Daddy, I think you're making a little bit of fun of me," I said.
       "Come here and sit next to me," he said.
       I got up and sat next to him on the sofa. He put his arm around my shoulder.
       "Kyle, you and Tim are the future of this family. We've built something here that really does have national implications, son, and every bit of this is going to be all yours. Kyle, I really don't know what you know and what you don't know. But I know what you need to know, and I'm teaching you that. And Kevin and Rick are teaching you that, too. Tonight was the first time I've seen you bow up at me in a long, long time, son. Over that issue of working. You understand where I'm coming from, don't you?"
       "Yes, sir. Now I do. Do you think I could volunteer at the United Cerebral Palsy Clinic?"
       "Absolutely, son. I think they would welcome you with open arms," he said.
       "That's what I'm going to do, then," I said.
       We said goodnight, and we all went to bed.

(Murray's Perspective)
       I had only been with Kevin and Rick for a few weeks when school started, but I already had a whole different attitude about who I was. When I got there, I knew I was freaky looking. I cultivated that look and that way I acted. I was different because I was gay, and I wanted to be "out" as being different to everybody. I wasn't really ready to be out as gay, so I chose a way of doing it that was ambiguous, at best.
       Nobody at the house in Emerald Beach said anything to me about the way I looked or how I dressed. They took me to a fishing tournament the first night I was there. I mean, that was so not me, but I went because I didn't have a choice. It was a whole different world and social class to me, and I was definitely out of place. I figured I would hang out with Denny and his boyfriend, but I ended up with Tim and Brian, and Kyle and Justin, of course. Thank God it rained that night and we didn't stay there very long.
       And then we went home to their house. We all just stripped down to our underwear in the den. Kevin and Rick had on their clothes, but the other boys just got right down to underwear so the clothes we were wearing could be washed.
       "Come on. Get your clothes off. I need to put all those in the wash," Justin had said to me back at the house.
       I knew he was talking to me, but all I could look at was his crotch. He had on bikini briefs, pure white cotton with a contoured front, and, against his tan, I thought that was just about the sexiest thing I had ever seen. His bulge in those things was huge, and I could clearly see the outline of his penis. It was huge, too. That, coupled with a body out of a muscle magazine and a face off a billboard, made me hard as a rock. I didn't want to take off my pants.
       "Come on, Murray, man. These are your brothers here, dude. Have you got on underwear?" Justin asked.
       I nodded.
       "Come on then, Bubba, let's do it. Brian, help me out here, Little Buddy. Would you please?" Justin said.
       "You don't have to be embarrassed," Brian said. "I'll got upstairs with you to get some more clothes, if you want to."
       "I'm embarrassed," I said.
       "Why? Do you have an erection?" Brian asked. He was so nice.
       "Yes," I whimpered.
       "Are you wearing briefs or boxers?" Brian asked.
       "Boxers," I said.
       "Let's walk back to the laundry room to let it go down, okay? But Murray, I can tell you this on my honor as an Eagle Scout. Nobody around here cares if you have an erection. Nobody but you, that is. Just don't touch it, and nobody will care. Let's go to the laundry room, Bubba," he said.
       It took a few minutes for my erection to go down. We had orange juice in the kitchen while we were waiting.
       "Do you guys think I'm weird because of what just happened?" I asked.
       "What? Getting a hard-on? I'd think you were weird if you didn't get one," Justin said. "I get 'em. We all get 'em now and then. We just ignore them in public like that, though. That's a rule. No playing with Johnny-jump-up."
       Brian and I laughed.
       "He's telling the truth," Brian said. "Nobody cares and nobody plays with them when they happen in public."
       The thought of playing with my erection in public made me want to faint.
       "Thank you for taking care of me. I think I'm ready now," I said.
       The next morning Kyle took me over. Somehow I got a job working with Denny as a pool boy at a hotel. I didn't apply for it or interview for it. Somehow it just happened. When they told me I could keep the money, I liked the idea of working a lot more, but that was all a mystery to me.
       I had taken a shower that morning for the first time in several days and had put on clean clothes, but I felt really dumb in the personnel office. I noticed people smiling and winking at Kyle, and I knew that was about me. When I had gone to high school the year before, I had wanted to be part of the popular crowd. I just couldn't get that to happen, so I joined up with the Goth crowd, instead. I knew Kyle had been part of the popular crowd all his life, and it showed big time that morning.
       "Let's get you home and use all this shit we bought at Walgreen's," he said.
       He had bought me a razor, shave cream, deodorant, and a lot of other stuff. He made me sit down in front of a mirror at the sink so I could watch him shave my face and learn how to do it. Having him do that was way too much for me, and I ejaculated into my pants. I didn't say anything, and I don't think he noticed.
       Then he dyed my hair, and having him touch my head was also too much for me, and I ejaculated again.
       "Take a shower now, and use this antiperspirant when you're finished. Put some aftershave on, too. It'll make you feel way better. Give me your clothes," he said.
       I stuck my arm through the crack in the door to the bathroom and gave him my clothes. I expected him to say something about all the cum that was in my underwear, but he didn't say a word.
       "Hurry up," was all he said.
       I thought about him in the shower. He was absolutely gorgeous to me. He had dark hair, lots of muscle, and a face that was like a model. He had a hairy chest, which was a real plus for me. I jerked off in the shower thinking about Kyle. I wanted him so bad, not that I would have known what to do with him if I got him. He would have taught me, though. I had studied the profile of his dick through his bikini briefs the night before, and I knew it was ample. I wasn't exactly in love, but I was certainly in lust.
       "You ready?" he asked, when he came back up. He handed me some cookies and a coke.
       "Yeah, I guess so," I said.
       "You're looking mighty good, Bubba," he said. " Let's get that hair cut."
       * * *
       "Denny, I hope Kyle likes me," I said that night. We were on the patio, waiting to go out.
       "Of course he likes you. You're his brother now. We all like you," Denny said.
       "No. I mean I hope he likes me. Like a boyfriend," I said.
       Denny laughed.
       "What?" I asked.
       "Kyle's a one-guy man, and that guy is Tim, Bubba," Denny said. "Of course he's going to like you, but don't go there with the boyfriend thing. It's not going to happen."
       "Have I been stupid?" I asked.
       He laughed. "No, you haven't been stupid. I think every guy who has ever been here has had a crush on Kyle. On Justin, too. But I'm telling you. It's useless with both of them. They've got the boys they want," Denny said.
       We were quiet for a few minutes.
       "What made you think Kyle might like you?" Denny asked.
       I got embarrassed.
       "Did he say something or do something to make you think that?"
       "He made me come," I whispered.
       "He made you come? Really? Did he jerk you off?" Denny asked. I could tell he was really surprised.
       "No, he didn't jerk me off. He shaved me and that made me come," I said.
       Denny started laughing.
       "Why is that so funny?" I asked.
       "Were you in the shower together when it happened?" Denny asked.
       "No. I was sitting in front of the mirror in the bathroom, and he was shaving me so I could see how it's done," I said.
       "Murray, Bubba. I did exactly the same thing, only he and I were both in the shower. Naked. I came all over his leg," he said.
       "Oh, God! What did you do?" I asked. "Did he get mad at you?"
       "No, he didn't get mad. I started crying, though," he said.
       "Jesus, Denny. I would have died right there if that had happened to me," I said.
       "Well, Kyle was wonderful about it. He said that your first shave is a pretty strong masculine thing and that he should have shaved me with my clothes on in front of the mirror so I could watch what he was doing," he said. "He made it sound like it was his fault."
       "Did you jerk him off or anything after it happened?" I asked.
       "No, they don't do stuff like that. He wasn't even hard, in fact," Denny said, sort of laughing a little.
       "Have you ever seen him hard?" I asked.
       "Sure. I've seen everybody here hard, except Kevin and Rick. If you get hard, you're supposed to ignore it, and everybody else ignores it, too. And that's the truth," he said.
       I was hard just having that conversation, and I wondered if he was. I didn't dare ask, though.
       In a minute it was time to go back to the fishing tournament, so we left.
       * * *
       The one thing that amazed me was how casual they all were about being gay. I had told my grandmother that I was gay when I was thirteen, and she was very cool about it. I didn't tell anybody else, though, until I moved there. Everybody knew, though, because of how I acted. I mean, it wasn't an act. That's just the way I was, and I couldn't do anything about it. I got picked on a good bit in middle school, but things sort of cooled off on that front in high school, once I became a Goth.
       Everybody in the family was gay, and I expected them to call each other "girlfriend" or "Missy" or "girl" or something, like I had heard gay guys do in movies and on TV. They never did that. They were guys, not girls, and they really didn't even joke about it. They teased each other constantly, especially Kyle, Justin, and Rick, but it was never mean. It was sort of about being gay, but it was really more just about being a guy.
       We watched a lot of baseball, or they did, at least. But they talked constantly while they watched.
       "Damn, look at the nuts on that one," Justin said, referring to the bulge in the crotch of one of the players. Even I had noticed that.
       "Those ain't his nuts. That's his cup, dumbass," Kyle said.
       "What do you mean? His cup?"
       "They wear high-impact plastic cups in their jockstraps to keep from getting injured," Kyle said. "Shit, I thought everybody knew that."
       "I ain't played much ball, Kyle, and you know it," Justin said.
       "Shit, you've been playing with balls all your life," Kyle said.
       "He got you last, Bubba," Rick said.
       "I know, but that was a real cheap one," Justin said. "He'd have been playing with his, too, if he had any. He always played with marbles."
       "The balls were always in good shape, Bubba. I've just always rather play with the bat than the balls," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I've noticed all that resin build-up," Justin said.
       Even Kyle laughed on that one.
       "I need it for a good grip," Kyle said.
       "Y'all are embarrassing me in front of Murray," Brian said.
       I didn't think Brian or the others were paying one bit of attention to what they were saying, and I was sort of surprised he said that.
       "Are we embarrassing you, Murray?" Kyle asked.
       "No," I said.
       "Are we making you hard?" Justin said.
       I had felt a twinge or two down there, but nothing major. I just thought it was funny.
       "Justin!" Kevin said, sort of in a warning tone of voice.
       "I was teasing him, Kevin. Don't get on me. We're just having fun," Justin said.
       "I know you are, Bubba, but let's don't get too personal, okay?" Kevin said.
       "Okay. I'm sorry I said that, Murray," Justin said. "Who wants to go for a swim?"
       Surprisingly, they all said they did. The dogs must have understood that because they got all excited and went over to the back doors that led to the patio. Even though I had been working on the beach for a couple of days, I hadn't yet been swimming since I was there. I like swimming, and I wanted to go. I expected everyone to go upstairs and change into bathing suits, but they didn't. Then I thought maybe they kept their suits in the locker room in the clubhouse, and that's where they were going to change. I went toward the stairs.
       "You don't need a suit, Murray," Brian said. "We swim nude."
       I liked all of them, but Brian was the kindest one, I thought. I mean, they were all kind to me, but he seemed to go out of his way--he and Tim--to make sure I didn't feel left out or confused or anything.
       "But what if I . . . "
       "Remember what Justin and I told you the other night? If you get an erection, nobody's going to tease you about it. We all get them from time to time, and it's okay. What I do is just stay in the water when that happens. Of course, if you want to wear your suit, you can. In fact, I'll even wear one, too, so you won't be the only one," he said.
       I thought that was awfully nice of him, but I also thought it might be fun to go skinny dipping.
       "That's okay, Brian. I'll just watch for a little while, though, if that's all right," I said.
       "Sure it's all right," Brian said.
       "You just want to eyeball some dick, don't you?" Justin said.
       I knew he was just teasing me because he was wearing a full-face grin. And he didn't say it mean, at all. He was also right.
       "Buddy, don't tease him like that," Brian said. "He's brand new."
       "I think he's tough. I think he can take it," Justin said.
       "Justin's right, Brian. I am tougher than I look, and I can take it. And I do want to eyeball some dick," I said.
       That made both of them laugh.
       "See. This boy's already fitting in," Justin said. "Come on, Bubba. Let's go outside so I can show you some real dick."
       Justin went outside ahead of us.
       "God, he's soooooo cute," I said to Brian.
       "Yeah, he is, and he's mine."
       Brian didn't say that mean or anything like that, but he made it very clear how things stood.
       "I know, damn it," I said, and Brian laughed.
       It was still light out when they got in the pool, and I really did have a chance to see what there was to see. Tim and Kevin were both uncircumcised, which I found very interesting to see. The rest were circumcised, like I was, and they were all different. I was very surprised to see that Brian was as big as he was. I figured Kyle, Justin, and Rick would be big, and they were, but I think sweet, meek Brian had the biggest one. Denny was small, but that didn't stop him from stripping right down and diving in. I figured I probably fit somewhere in the middle in the size department, and that was a comfortable place for me to be.
       They looked like they were having such a good time. The dogs were in and out of the pool, and they actually seemed to be playing a game with Trixie. She was a sweet dog and not nearly as rambunctious as Krewe. They wanted to play volleyball, and they asked me to come in to make even teams.
       "Okay," I said. They all cheered, and that made me feel ten feet tall.
       I got undressed and turned to face my brothers for the first time. That was the first time in my life I had ever been outside naked, and it felt good. It felt natural, in fact. I thought they might have a comment or a whistle or something to tease me, but it was like I was fully clothed. I'm not sure they all even looked at me. At any rate, I got in the pool and paddled out to where they were.
       Kyle and Rick were the captains, and they were busy choosing up sides. I was on Kyle's side, and, for once in my life, I wasn't the last one chosen. Kevin was.
       That game was a real revelation to me. I sucked, of course, but so did Denny. The thing was, nobody got on to us when we missed a volley. Then I realized what was going on. They were playing to have fun, not to win or be macho or anything like that. When I realized that, it was like a ton of pressure had been taken off me. It didn't matter if I missed the ball. It did matter if I tried for it, though. They praised as many of my misses as they did the few times I got it over the net, but all they seemed to care about was that I tried.
       Our team was Kyle, Kevin, Brian, and me. The other team was Rick, Justin, Denny, and Tim. After we had been playing for awhile, four guys came out on the patio. They were grown-ups, but they were all young and very good looking.
       "Hey! Look what the cat drug in," Kyle said.
       A couple of those guys were drinking beers, and they were all grinning.
       "Y'all come in and meet your new brother," Rick said.
       They all stripped down to skin and started getting in the pool.
       "Murray, these guys are your brothers, too. This is Jeff Martin, his partner Tyler Jones, Chuck Jackson, and his partner Tony Miller. Guys, this is Murray Schultz," Kevin said.
       I shook hands with each of them, and they all seemed like really nice guys. Since they were introduced as partners, I figured they were gay, and I looked hard to see if any of them would be like me. But they weren't. But it didn't seem to matter to them that I was effeminate, and it was beginning to be less and less a concern to me, too.
       They wanted to know how old I was, where I was from, what grade I was in, what I liked to do for fun.
       "I don't know if y'all noticed or not, but y'all interrupted a game. I say we either finish the game or get out and get drunk," Kyle said.
       They all laughed.
       "Why don't we do both," one of the new guys said.
       "That's what I say, too," Kyle said. "Chuck and Ty, y'all be on my team. Jeff and Tony, y'all are on Rick's team. Are you cool with that?" Kyle said to Rick.
       "Hell, yeah. Let's play," Rick said.
       We played some more, but the game definitely changed with those new guys added. It got a lot more serious with the new ones. I noticed they didn't hit the ball to Denny and me nearly as much as they had before. I fact, I'm not sure I ever touched it once the new guys joined. We had notched up the athletics quite a bit. They still weren't mean about it when somebody missed a volley, but they kept it away from the ones they knew sucked. I, for one, appreciated that because that ball was coming over the net a lot faster and a lot harder than it had been coming before.
       I've always thought of a sport played in the water as sweat free. That night, I perspired in the water for the first time in my life. I got out of breath a little bit, too, but I noticed the rest of them didn't. I knew I was overweight, and I thought they might be able to help me with that. Being fat was just another reason to have people pick on me, and I thought that maybe they could help me lose some pounds.
       The best part of that evening happened after the volleyball was finished. I expected them to get out and get dressed, but they didn't. We just sat around on the patio naked, talking. The older guys, except Rick, drank beer, and Kyle brought out a couple of trays of food for us to nibble on. It wasn't really a party, but it kind of was.
       Some of them played a game where one guy put his palms up and the other guy put his palms down on the first guy's palms. The one on the bottom was supposed to try to slap the hand of the guy who had his on top, but the guy on top was supposed to try to avoid being hit by pulling his hands away real fast. It really looked like fun.
       "Goddamn it! You just broke my fucking hand," Justin shouted. He and Kyle were playing.
       "If you don't want your hand broke, then move it," Kyle said.
       "Now I can barely feel it, much less move it," Justin said.
       "Tough shit. My go again," Kyle said.
       If the bottom hands hit the top hands, he went again. If he missed, the turn changed.
       "If you hit me again that hard, Kyle, I'm going to kill you," Justin said.
       We all laughed.
       "Let's make it more interesting. A nickel a slap," Rick said.
       "What do you mean?" Justin asked.
       "Well, for every slap, you pay him a nickel. We'll each start with twenty nickels, and the man with the most at the end wins," Rick said.
       "Hey, that's a good idea. I like that," Kyle said. "Only trouble is, I don't have any money on me."
       "No? I think I just found me two," Justin said. He had reached down and had grabbed Kyle's scrotum.
       "Get your fucking hand off of that. That ain't nickels. That's what the bunny brought me for Easter," Kyle said. Everybody laughed.
       "I've got some rolled nickels. Let me go get them," Rick said. When he came back, he gave each of us twenty nickels.
       "Let's pair up. When the nickels are gone, you're out, and somebody else who still has nickels can take over your spot," Rick said.
       I paired up with Denny.
       "Don't hurt me, okay?" Denny said.
       "I don't think there's much chance of that happening," I said. "You don't hurt me."
       We had a great time playing that silly game. There was so much laughing and screaming and carrying on, I thought the neighbors would call the cops. But they didn't. We had a great time that night, and every one of us was stark naked.
       * * *
       That's the way it was for the two weeks before school began. I called my grandmother regularly, and I told her about how much fun I was having with those boys.
       "Oh, Murray, I'm so happy for my boy," she said.
       "Thanks, Nana. I miss you very badly, but I don't think I could have found a better place than this," I said.
       "I've been praying for you, Murray," she said.
       "And I've been praying for you, too, Nana. Do you think God hears Catholic prayers? Because that's what they are here. Catholics. At least most of them," I said.
       "Is the mensch a Catholic?"
       "Kyle? Yeah, he's a Catholic," I said.
       "God always hears the prayers of a mensch. You are on the road to becoming a mensch, and you must continue on that road, Murray."
       "I will, Nana. Now that I know what one is like. I will."

Chapter 02

(Justin's Perspective)
       I'm starting my second year of college, right? I'm still scared to death of it, right? Only this time, my buddy Kyle is coming with me.
       "What are you going to do when class is over?" I asked.
       "I don't know. Jerk off, I guess," he said.
       Everybody at the breakfast table laughed.
       "Is that all you know how to do?" I asked.
       I was using what they called the Emerald Beach Grumble, and I loved it. I had needed to have me that kind of talk all my life because that's the kind of guy I was.
       "No. I know how to be a bellboy, but that option has been ripped from my grasp," he said.
       "'Ripped from your grasp?' That sounds like you're some kind of poet or something," Justin said.
       "Yeah, that's what I'm going to do. Write poems and jerk off," he said.
       "I thought you were going to call UCP about volunteering," Rick said.
       "I did call them, and I have an interview for that on Thursday. The earliest I can start is next Monday. What am I going to do in the meantime?" Kyle said.
       "Why don't you get ahead in your classes. Read your textbooks," Tim said.
       "I reckon I could do that. Tim, I've got some meetings at night for Beta Rho, too," he said.
       "I figured you would. Go. Just come home to me, okay?"
       God, Tim and Kyle were a cute couple, and everybody in that house knew that Kyle wasn't going anywhere but Tim's bed. Those two were rock solid. No question about that. It was the same way with me and Brian, and with Kevin and Rick, too. Shit, I couldn't even imagine those two dating somebody else, much less fucking 'em.
       I had been working full time at the hotel during the summer, but I was taking twelve hours that semester and needed time to study. I wasn't a quick study like Brian was. For one thing, I didn't read very fast, and it took me much longer to read something than it took him. I read pretty good, though. I mean, I knew most of the words, and all, and I could usually figure out what the hard ones meant if I didn't already know them. I had been reading a lot since we got back from Disney World, and Brian kept a steady stream of books coming my way.
       One day at work right after school started, Mr. Gene came to see Mr. Rooney. He stopped at the desk to visit with me a little while.
       "How's it going at school, Bubba?" he asked me.
       "It's going good, so far. I had a quiz already in math, and I got a hundred on it. I'm thinking I might be better at math than I thought I was," I said.
       "That's good, but I think math is way overrated," he said.
       "What do you mean?" I asked.
       "Well, I don't know. I had to take all that algebra shit, and trig, and even calculus in college. You know how much I use any of that to run my business?" he asked.
       "No, sir, I don't," I said.
       "Not a goddamn bit, Justin," he said. "Now, don't get me wrong. I think people like Tim and Brian are going to need it when they become doctors, but guys like us don't need to use that shit. Justin, I ain't never, ever had to find x. You know why?"
       "No, sir. Why?"
       "I ain't never lost x, that's why," he said.
       I thought that was pretty funny, and he loved it that I laughed at his joke. He was the master of the grumble, and he was using it big that morning.
       "Mr. Gene, I haven't said this to you yet, but I want to thank you for taking such good care of me in giving me a job, and all," I said.
       "Forget about it, son. I need good people, and Kyle's going to need a good right-hand man someday. I consider all four of you boys my sons, and I plan to use your ass in the management of my businesses, just as soon as y'all move back here," he said.
       "Yes, sir," I said, "as long as that's the only way you want to use it."
       I saw on his face that he was thinking for a split second.
       "Oh, damn, Justin! You got me last hard that time, boy," he said. He and I both laughed.
       "Let me ask you something. Have you ever done any hunting?" he said.
       "Just that one time when we went," I said.
       "Did you like it?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir. I loved it," I said.
       "Well, let's do us some hunting this fall, okay? Mack Mixon tells me we've got us a first class bird dog in ole Trixie, and he says Krewe is coming along pretty good, too. It would be cruel not to use those two dogs to hunt. That's what they were born to do, and your boy's trained 'em up real good," he said.
       "I'm ready any time you are," I said.
       "You know, last year Kyle always had all that shit he had to do at school, and it was hard to find a weekend when we could get away. Don't misunderstand me. I was proud as I could be of what he did, but all of that was time consuming. I started my boys hunting when they were five years old, and it's been a way of life for us since then. We need to get back to that," he said.
       "Kyle told me one time he has this deep need to put food on the table that he caught himself. That's why he wanted to catch them crabs so bad. Now it's the lobsters. Those things are delicious, but you can buy 'em, can't you?" I said.
       "Yeah, you can, but I know where Kyle's coming from, Jus. I'm sort of the same way. I guess he got that from me. There's just something about sitting down to a meal that you're responsible for getting from the wild that's really satisfying," he said. "Maybe you'll get that same feeling one day. I hope so, anyway. Well, look, Jus. I came to see Jack Rooney. I need a favor from him, so let me go talk to him."
       "Okay. I'm ready to hunt whenever you are," I said.
       "I hear you," he said.
       He went off into Mr. Rooney's office. Stephen was loitering around us behind the desk.
       "Okay. So who was that hunk? Are you seeing him?" he asked.
       "Am I seeing him? What the hell do you mean?" I asked.
       "Oh, please, Justin. You know exactly what I mean. Are you fucking him?" he said.
       "No, I ain't fucking him. That's Gene Goodson. That's Kyle's daddy," I said.
       "Oh, my God! I was in the presence of greatness, and I didn't even know it," he said.
       I laughed, and he laughed, too.
       "I guess the two of you must be pretty good friends, in that case," he said.
       "Who? Me and Kyle?"
       "No, not you two. I know you guys are best friends. I meant you and Mr. Goodson," he said.
       "Well, he just told me he thinks of me as his son. Does that count?" I said.
       "Sweet Jesus! I can't believe your luck," he said.
       "If you knew the whole story, which you won't ever know, you'd know what an understatement of the year that was," I said.
       "Are they as rich as everybody says they are?" he asked.
       "I have no idea. We don't ever talk about that," I said.
       "You don't? Really?" he asked.
       "No, we really don't. I know they're rich, and I know Kyle's rich in his own right, too, but he never says a word about that. He's my best friend, and I love him almost as much as I love Brian. And I know he loves me almost as much as he loves Tim, too. But I'll never go there with him, and he'll never let me, either. And I know what you're thinking, and, no, there is no sex between me and Kyle," I said.
       "Amazing. I get hard just thinking about him," he said.
       "I know. I've noticed," I said.
       He was grinning, and I was, too.
       "You like me, don't you?" he said.
       "I do. I like you very much. I'm not attracted sexually to femme guys, okay, but I consider you one of my best friends," I said.
       He got a kind of sad look for a second, and then he broke into a big grin.
       "The same here. On both counts, goddamn it!"
       We cracked up.
       I don't know when Gene left because I didn't see him go out. I might have been busy in the back or something. In about an hour Mr. Rooney called me into his office. He had only done that two or three times since I worked there, and every time my bowels turned to pure water. It was all I could do to keep from gagging and throwing up, I was so scared.
       "Sit down, Justin," he said.
       I took a seat, all the while hoping my ass wasn't leaking a mess on his chair.
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       "Mr. Goodson wanted to talk to me about you," he said.
       God, please no, I thought. At that instant I wanted me a cigarette so bad I was about to scream. I hadn't had one yet that day, but that was all I could think about. That, and being fired. I'm sure I showed it in my face, too.
       "Justin, calm down, son. Are you okay?" he asked.
       "I'm fine," I said.
       "You don't look fine," he said. "You look terrified."
       Come on. Just tell me what the fuck you got to tell me and get it over with, I thought.
       "No, sir. I'm okay," I said, lying through my teeth. I took a couple of deep breaths, and that seemed to help.
       "Justin, Mr. Goodson and I talked about the fact that you're in college full time now. We agreed you need time to go to classes and study. You can't work here full time anymore. You're going to continue to work here part time, but at full-time pay," he said.
       He said that mighty fast, and I had a hard time processing it. I didn't know what he meant, exactly.
       "Would you mind saying that again?" I asked.
       He grinned a little bit.
       "You're going to work here part time and get full-time pay for it," he said.
       That time I understood what he meant.
       "I can't take full-time pay for that," I said.
       "Jus, you know Jeff Martin, don't you?" he asked.
       "Oh course I know Jeff. He's one of my brothers," I said.
       "Jeff doesn't work here at all when he's in school, and he gets full pay. That's the way Mr. Goodson wants it. Jeff also gets a company car. You'll get full pay when you're in college away from here and can't work. You guys are very special to Gene Goodson," he said. "I wouldn't ask any questions, if I were you. I'd just take the money and run."
       "Yes, sir," I said. "Is that all?"
       "That's all, Jus. And, by the way, you do a hell of a job for us," he said. "Keep this to yourself around here, okay?"
       "Yes, sir," I said. "I will."
       When I left his office, I was so excited I was about to bust. I was aching to tell somebody, but the only one of us working there right then was Chuck.
       "Knock, knock," I said, at Chuck's cubicle entrance.
       "Hey, Jus. What's up, Bubba?" he said. He was all smiles and happy and shit, like he was glad to see me.
       "I just got a promotion, I think," I said.
       "All right!" he said.
       He took me out to lunch to celebrate, and we didn't eat in the employees' cafeteria, either. We went to Applebee's, and we had us a nice lunch. I didn't tell him the details because I had promised not to, but he guessed it. He and Tony were Jeff and Tyler's roommates, and they knew the score with them. I guess that was the way Mr. Gene did it with Kyle's brothers.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Like much of Florida, Emerald Beach was a growing community. Every year hundreds of people moved to our town. The growth was putting a strain on our infrastructure, and they were building new roads, new schools, new housing developments as fast as they could to keep up with the influx of new residents.
       We lived in a relatively upscale neighborhood. The houses on our side of the street were on waterfront property, and the cost of that automatically dictated both the kind of houses that would be built there and the relative affluence of the people who bought those houses. In the house immediately to the west of us was the Crawford family, and their sons, Morgan and Blake, were regular fixtures in our home. We were all pretty sure the boys were straight, but nobody had a definitive read on that. Morgan and Blake, and Blake's best friend, Riley, were always there with us. The boys assured us they knew we were all gay, and if that didn't matter to them, it certainly didn't matter to us that they were straight.
       In February of that year, they had started building a house on the lot immediately to our east. There were huge oak trees on that lot, and the developer had made it a point of preserving as many of them as he could. When they started building the house, we would sometimes go over there and scope it out. It was going to be a two story, and it appeared that there were four bedrooms and two baths upstairs and a master suite downstairs. It was going to be a very nice house.
       "They started moving in today," Kyle said one night.
       "How do you know? Did you see 'em?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah. I was out back reading, and I heard a big truck pull up. I got on some shorts, and I went to check 'em out," Kyle said.
       "So, what did you see?" Tim asked.
       "I saw a moving van and some movers," Kyle said.
       "Did you see the people?" Tim asked.
       "Yeah. I saw two boys and two men. They looked like the ones who were moving in," he said.
       That was a Wednesday of the last week of August. Our boys were already back in school, and I wondered if those boys moving in next door were school kids.
       "How old were the boys, Kyle?" I asked.
       "I don't know. They could have been any age. They were teenagers, I think. I don't know," he said.
       "Were they cute?" Justin asked.
       Kyle grinned. "Yeah, they were, actually. No erections in sight, though," he said.
       "What'd you do? Get out binoculars?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah, I did. So what?" Kyle said.
       We all laughed.
       "I knew it. You scoped those boys out, didn't you?"
       "Yeah, I did, Justin. So fucking what, man?" Kyle asked.
       "So fucking nothing, Kyle. I'd have done the same thing, and you know it," Justin said.
       "I know. So why are you getting on to me?" Kyle asked.
       "Kyle, shut up. You always want to argue with me, even when we hold the same point," Justin said.
       Kyle just grinned. Sparring with Justin was one of Kyle's many hobbies, and we all knew it.
       On Friday night, Kyle said, "I'm making coffeecake for the new neighbors for tomorrow morning. I skipped the jamboree tonight to do it."
       Tim, Brian, Denny, and Murray hadn't skipped the jamboree, and Justin and Kyle were the only boys home that night.
       "Come give me a hand, Davis," Kyle called from the kitchen.
       "I guess I'm fixing to get a lesson in how to make a coffeecake," Jus said, as he left the room. "You can buy those, you know," he said.
       Rick and I laughed at him. Justin was the pragmatist of the crowd. If you could buy it, why make it or catch it yourself? Kyle was the opposite. If you can buy it, you can also make it or catch it yourself. Kyle wasn't above buying prepared food, by any means, but he seemed to have a code of rules about what you could buy and what you had to make yourself. I basically agreed with Justin, but I wasn't a cook. Rick basically agreed with Kyle, and Rick had been a cook in a restaurant.
       "Kyle doesn't really need any help," Rick said.
       "But he wants company, don't you think?" I said.
       "Yeah, and they're probably slurping beers back there, too," Rick said.
       "Is that so bad?" I asked.
       "No. Of course not. Would you like a beer or a drink?" he asked.
       "A beer might be nice," I said.
       He got up and got me one.
       "Yep, they were drinking beer," Rick said. "But they're baking, too. I think we're going to have several coffeecakes tomorrow morning. And they're playing, too. Justin had flour all over his face. They're having a great time."
       "Have you ever known those two not to have a great time, no matter what they did?" I asked.
       "No, not really," Rick said.
       * * *
       The next morning we were all in the den, as usual for a weekend morning.
       "I've got some nice coffeecakes in there for the new neighbors. Let's take 'em over to 'em," Kyle said.
       It was about ten o'clock, and that was late enough to go calling, I thought. Denny had plans to hang out with some of his debate friends, and Murray was going with him. They were supposed to go to the main branch of the public library in town to do some research, and there was an Internet cafe/coffee shop they wanted to check out, too. There were a bunch of very interesting shops and galleries in the so-called "arts district" downtown, and Denny and Murray and their friends wanted to investigate those, too. One of the older boys was picking them up, so they couldn't go meet the new neighbors.
       "Look at you, Bubba," Kyle said to Murray. "You're looking mighty good in those new clothes."
       Murray blushed a little, but he beamed at the compliment.
       "Let me get some pictures of you," Kyle said.
       Kyle kept his camera bag as close to him as he kept his scrotum, and he was always ready to pull a camera out in an instant. He had upgraded to a really fine digital camera, and the quality of his pictures had increased in proportion. He had discovered a company that specialized in printing digital photographs, and he was getting some unbelievably good pictures back in the mail. He emailed the company the file, after he had worked on it using his digital picture editing software, and a few days later poster-size photographs would arrive in tubes in the mail.
       "I want you to look pissed off in this one," Kyle said.
       "But I'm not pissed off," Murray said.
       "GODDAMNIT! I SAID LOOK PISSED OFF, YOU LITTLE FAG," he screamed.
       Murray's face went through a hundred different expression in a matter of seconds, and Kyle was snapping pictures as fast as he could. Murray finally realized what he had just done, and he calmed down.
       "You're not really mad at me, are you?" Murray asked him.
       "Of course I'm not really mad at you, but it worked, didn't it?" Kyle said.
       "Kyle, that sucks, man. I was fixing to call you out over that," Justin said. "Why'd you hurt his feelings like that? That ain't like you, man."
       "Did I hurt your feelings, Murray?" Kyle asked.
       "No, but you pissed me off," Murray said.
       "And what did I ask you to do?" Kyle asked.
       "Look pissed off," Murray said. "Did it work?"
       "It worked big time, Bubba, and it pissed him off, too, didn't it, Justin?"
       "Yeah. Did you get some of me?" Justin asked.
       "Yes, I did," Kyle said. "Watermelon Seed."
       "Are you talking about that picture of me with that seed on my dick?" Justin asked.
       "What the hell else you think I'm talking about. That one sold, by the way," Kyle said.
       "Really? Who bought it?" Justin asked.
       "How would I know? I just know there are guys jerking off to that picture every night, all over the world," Kyle said.
       "Goodson, you are so full of shit, I can smell it from here," Justin said.
       "Did you just figure that out?" Kyle asked. He and Jus were grinning and laughing.
       "No. I've known it a long time," Jus said. He grabbed Kyle in a headlock.
       "Get off me. You're going to fuck up my camera," Kyle said. Justin turned him loose. "Let's get the baked goods next door before somebody gets into a fist fight here."
       "I know the kind of fist fighting you're interested in," Justin said, laughing.
       "Yeah? Like you ain't?" Kyle replied. They both laughed some more.
       * * *
       There were six of us in the pastry delivery squad, and each of us had a coffeecake. The one I had was still warm, so I assumed Kyle had baked it that morning. The aroma in the house that morning was unbelievably good, and he had put out two warm ones for us to eat. One that we ate was cinnamon flavored with a really thick glaze on top, and the other one had dried fruit in it, also with a thick glaze. They were delicious.
       We pressed the doorbell and heard it ring inside. We had the dogs with us, but we were prepared to send them home if our new neighbors appeared not to want canine visitors in their new home.
       The one who answered the door was one of the boys, and he was stunning to look at. He had deep blond hair, blue eyes, and a face I knew Kyle would want to photograph. He was about our height--5'10" or so--and he was very well defined in the muscle department. He had on shorts, and that was all.
       "Hi. We're your neighbors from next door, and we brought you some goodies to say welcome to the neighborhood," I said.
       "Hi," he said. "Come on in."
       He opened the door wide for us to go in.
       The dogs were hanging back, not wanting to go in.
       "Will the dogs come in?" he asked.
       "Yeah. Come on, girls," Brian said, and the dogs followed us in very calmly.
       "I'm Wade Spencer," the boy said.
       We all introduced ourselves. Wade's eyes were as big for us as ours were for him. He was a real specimen of boy, but we were packing our share, as well.
       "Dad, Jimmy, Reid!" he called out. "We've got company! It's the neighbors," he called out.
       I heard somebody thundering down the stairs, and it was another boy. He was shirtless in just shorts, too, and he was just as good looking as Wade was. He had dark hair, though, and it was pretty obvious he hadn't shaved in a day or two. He had some hair on his chest, and I could see the top of a very nice treasure trail down into his shorts. Neither boy fit the "muscular" description, really, like Justin did, but both of them were toned and very well defined.
       "This is Reid Kenner," Wade said.
       Again, we shook hands and introduced ourselves.
       "Where do you live?" Reid asked.
       "Right next door," Kyle said. "That way." He pointed in the direction of our house. I noticed there wasn't a trace of the Emerald Beach accent in Kyle's voice. I wondered how he did that.
       "That's a nice place," Wade said. "We noticed it already."
       "Thanks," Rick said.
       Two men came into the foyer just then. They appeared to be in their mid- to late-thirties. Maybe early forties. They both wore smiles.
       "Dad. Jimmy. These are our neighbors," Wade said.
       We shook hands and introduced ourselves. "Dad's" name was David Spencer, and Jimmy introduced himself as Jimmy Spencer, too. I figured they were brothers, although they didn't really look alike. I wondered if Reid's last name was Kenner, or if that was his middle name and he used both.
       "We brought you some coffeecakes," Kyle said. The accent was back.
       "Oh, wow. These look wonderful," David said. "Please come in, have some coffee, and help us eat some of these."
       Their house was really nice. They had an enormous room that was a combination family room, dining room, breakfast room, and kitchen. It was all open and light. I judged it had twelve-foot ceilings, and there was glass all across the back of the house to take advantage of their view of the lagoon. We took seats, and the dogs flopped down near Brian.
       "These dogs are very well behaved," Jimmy said.
       Krewe barked a bit when he said that, and Brian told her to hush. She did.
       "They're well trained, too," Jimmy said. "Did you do that?"
       "This is the dog man, right here," Justin said, indicating Brian.
       "Are you and David brothers?" Rick asked.
       I was curious about that, too. They had the same last name, but the boys, their sons, apparently didn't. Jimmy and David each wore wedding bands that were identical to the plain gold bands that Rick and I wore. I wondered if they were in the same kind of relationship that Rick and I were in.
       "Er, no," Jimmy said.
       David came back in with a platter of coffeecake cut into individual servings, and one of the boys was with him with a tray of coffee cups and cream and sugar. David set the food down and went to get a pot of coffee.
       "We're not brothers," David said. "We're partners."
       He and Jimmy had rather apprehensive looks on their faces, waiting for our reactions. The boys were looking at our boys for their reactions, too.
       "So are we," Rick said.
       "You mean . . . " David started to say.
       "He means we're gay, and Rick and I are partners for life," I said.
       The four new neighbors lit up in big grins.
       "Us, too," Kyle said, indicating him and Tim.
       "Same with us," Brian said of him and Justin.
       "My God, this is uncanny," Jimmy said. "I mean, what are the odds that we'd move in next door to a gay couple in a place like Emerald Beach? And with gay kids, too."
       "Gay family," I said. "We have three foster sons who are gay, and these three guys," indicating Kyle, Tim, and Justin, "are honorary foster sons."
       "Reid and I are a couple, too," Wade said.
       "No shit?" Justin asked.
       "No shit," Wade said.
       "I want to hear this story," Justin said.
       Jimmy and David chuckled.
       "It's not too complicated," Jimmy began. "Dave and I both got married very young and our sons were born within a month of each other. I knew I had a strong attraction to men from the time I was a young teenager, but I thought I could beat it. You've heard that story a million times, probably. Well, I couldn't. After about three months of marriage, sex with my wife got to be more and more of a chore, one that I finally stopped doing altogether after a year. She confronted me about our relationship, and I came clean. It was a very amicable parting of the ways. Fortunately, I was able to stay in college, and then law school, and my parents paid child support on my behalf."
       "My story is about the same," Dave said. "Only, I didn't get to finish college. Not then, anyway. I did eventually, though."
       "How old is everybody?" Kyle asked.
       Ordinarily, I thought that question would have been rather impertinent, but, under the circumstances, it seemed natural.
       "Dave and I are thirty-six," Jimmy said, "and the boys are seventeen."
       We all told our ages, too.
       "We've been together for sixteen years," Dave said.
       "And we've been together since June," Wade said.
       We all told how long we had been together, too.
       "Wade and I have known each other a long time, but we just recently came out to each other," Reid said. "We were both living with our moms, but now we're going to live here with our dads."
       "Cool," Kyle said.
       "Are you guys seniors?" Tim asked.
       They said they were. They had actually already started school at Beachside, but they had taken Thursday and Friday off to help with the move.
       "I think you're in one of our classes," Wade said. "Do you take AP English?"
       "Yeah, I do," Tim said. "Cool."
       We spent a couple of hours getting acquainted with our new neighbors. We told them the saga of the Foley-Mashburn Clan and about our jobs. Jimmy was a lawyer and Dave was a CPA.
       Our four kids and their two kids seemed to hit it off immediately and very well. Wade and Reid both had an athletic inclination, but neither of them played sports for school. They had been there all summer, visiting their dads. They had worked at a fast food place in town, and they had finally acted on the strong attraction they had had for each other since puberty.
       "Are you each other's first boyfriend?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah," they said, grinning at each other.
       They were really cute kids, and I knew they'd be at our house a lot.
       * * *
       "Those were nice guys, weren't they?" Rick said, once we were all back at home.
       Kyle was in the kitchen making lunch for us, although I had eaten so much coffeecake I wasn't sure how much lunch I really wanted. He called us into the breakfast room. He had set out cold cuts, lettuce, tomato, pickles, chips, condiments, and sliced bread for us to make sandwiches. We all got busy fixing our plates.
       "I think it's going to be fun having those guys next door," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I guess it will. They're both real cute, aren't they?" Justin observed.
       We all agreed they were.
       "Cut or uncut?" Kyle asked. "I definitely think uncut."
       "I don't know, Bubba. They sort of acted cut to me," Justin said.
       "Acted cut? Do you think circumcision has an effect on personality?" I asked.
       "Yeah," Justin and Kyle said in unison.
       They sometimes startled me with some of their ideas, and that was definitely one of those times.
       "I'd like to hear more about this," I said.
       Tim, the only other uncircumcised one there, said, "Yeah. Me, too."
       "It's nothing bad. It's just a feeling I get, that's all," Kyle said. "Sort of like gaydar, although I don't have much of that. I didn't know they were all gay until they said it."
       "I didn't either," Justin said. "I'll bet these two knew, though," meaning Tim and Brian.
       "I suspected it right away," Brian said. "And it's nothing I can put my finger on. Did you know, Tim?"
       "I suspected it, too. More about the two boys than the two dads, though," Tim said.
       "Me, too, Tim," I said. "I noticed the way Wade looked at the four of you when he opened the door. That's what tipped me off. That, and the eye contact he used."
       "Do people think that about us?" Justin asked.
       "Do you care if they do?" Kyle countered.
       "Not especially. I'm just curious, is all," Jus said.
       "I don't think they do, Jus. At least, I've never noticed anybody getting that 'ah, hah!' look on their faces when they see you for the first time," Rick said. "And I've watched for it, too."
       "That gaydar is a curious thing to me," Kyle said. "I can see how it would be real useful if you were out looking to pick up somebody. It might save you a broken jaw or something."
       "I've done some reading about gaydar," I said. "One theory is it grows out of the basic human need for association."
       "What does that mean?" Kyle asked.
       "Well, everybody wants to be associated with other people. You know, to have friends and all. It's no different for us. And most people prefer to hang out with people who are like them in some significant way. Like your fraternity, Kyle. All the beach guys want to associate with one another, so they started Beta Rho," I said. "I love our straight friends to death, but I feel a lot more relaxed and comfortable when we're with our gay friends."
       "So it's like guys develop gaydar unconsciously as a way of knowing who potential friends are?" Brian said.
       "Yeah, something like that. I naturally assume that a stranger is straight, unless he says or does something to make me think otherwise," Rick said. "I don't necessarily mean act effeminate, because none of those guys next door act that way. But, did you notice Jimmy and Dave both wore wedding rings but there weren't any women around? That tipped me off right away, and the same last name."
       "Yeah, what is that about?" Kyle asked.
       "Some gay couples do that," I said. "Some use hyphenated last names, too. That's probably more common, though."
       "My daddy would have a fit if I changed my name," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I really don't recommend it, Bubba," I said. "There are too many buildings around here with the name Goodson on them. Think of all the new signs that would have to be made."
       Kyle chuckled, and the others smiled.
       "I read about electronic gaydar, too," I said, getting us back to the subject.
       "What's that?" Justin asked.
       "It's a little thing you put on your key chain, kind of like a remote car-door opener," I said. "It sends out a radio signal, and somebody else in the room who has one, too, can pick it up. I think it's sort of a novelty item, really. Those things could be potentially dangerous, I think."
       "Why dangerous? I would think they would come in handy for somebody who wants to score a date," Brian said.
       "Well, think about it, guys. Let's say you're a gay basher and you want to practice your hobby. That would be a great way to identify gay men in an otherwise straight location, don't you think?" I said.
       "Good point," Brian said. "I guess I won't get me one after all."
       "What do you mean, get you one?" Justin demanded. There was a slight edge to his voice.
       "Don't get mad. I was just teasing," Brian said.
       "I know you were, but I don't like for you to tease me about stuff like that, Little Buddy," he said.
       "I'm sorry," Brian said. "I won't do it anymore. I love you, Justin."
       "And I love you, too, Brian," Justin said.
       "Oh, my God! My gaydar's going off big time right now," Kyle said.
       "Shut up, Kyle," Justin said, but he laughed along with the rest of us.
       "Does anybody want to water ski?" Kyle asked.
       "Let's ask Wade and Reid if they want to ski, too," Tim suggested.
       "Good idea," Kyle said. "They might be busy unpacking, though, but we can try."
       It turned out Wade and Reid were unpacking, but their dads let them ski with their new friends. I was really looking forward to getting to know our new neighbors.

Chapter 03

(Kyle's Perspective)
       It wasn't even Labor Day, and we had already been back in school for a solid week. My classes didn't seem like they were going to be super hard, and I was pretty excited about an art course I was taking. It was in photography.
       "Mr. Goodson, would you see me after class, please?" the professor said the first day.
       "Shit, what did you do?" Justin asked.
       I had really encouraged him to take that class with me. I loved taking pictures and working with them almost as much as I liked having sex, and I was hoping I could turn my brother and best friend on to photography, too.
       "I didn't do anything. He probably knows my daddy or some shit like that," I said.
       I went up to him after class.
       "Sir, I'm Kyle Goodson. You wanted to see me?" I said.
       "Ah, yes. Kyle. I'm Harry Potter," he said, sticking out his hand to shake mine.
       "For real?" I said.
       "Yes! For real. It's actually 'Henry,' but I've gone by 'Harry' all my life. Now those wretched books and movies have come out, and I've taken a huge amount of ribbing for my name," he said.
       If that man didn't play for my team, nobody else in that college did, either.
       "Kyle, I wanted to talk to you because I understand you're quite a photographer," he said.
       "Yes, sir. I don't know if I'm quite a photographer, but I love it. And I take a lot of pictures, too," I said.
       "Well, the word around here is that you're a professional," he said.
       "No, sir. I worked at a hotel all summer," I said.
       "Have you ever made any money off your pictures?" he asked.
       "Well, yeah, from the gallery. And the book, too, I guess," I said. "But I don't do, like, weddings and stuff like that."
       "The gallery and the book? Where is this gallery?" he asked.
       He was trembling a little bit, and I thought the man was fixing to be sick on me.
       "Don't worry. It's not here. It's in New York City," I said.
       "You're in a gallery in New York City? Oh, my God! I knew about the book, and I even have a copy of it. But I didn't know about the gallery. You're every teacher's worst nightmare, Kyle," he said.
       I was totally befuddled. I hadn't always paid the best attention in class, but it had been many years since I had been sent to the office for misbehaving. In fact, I got all the way through middle school and high school without a single discipline referral, and I was proud of that. I was always very respectful of my teachers, too. I was raised to be a good kid, and I resented the fact that he thought I was his worst nightmare. Besides, I figured if he dreamed about me at all, it was going to be a wet dream, not a nightmare.
       "Kyle, I can see by the look on your face that I've offended you, and that was the last thing I intended to do. I'm sorry," he said.
       "How come I'm every teacher's worst nightmare? I'm always respectful. I don't argue. I do what I'm told," I said.
       "Kyle, that was a terrible choice of words, and I didn't mean it that way. I take that back, and I wish I had never said it. What I meant was, your accomplishments in photography already so far outstrip mine that I'm afraid you won't learn anything in this course," he said. "Have you ever studied photography? I mean as an art form?"
       "No, sir. I worked with a local photographer to learn darkroom, but that's all," I said.
       "I know you have. He's a very close friend of mine, and he's the one who alerted me to you. He's thrilled about your book, by the way. Thanks for acknowledging him," he said.
       I had said "thank you" to a bunch of people in the front part of the book, him included. I was glad I had done that, now.
       "He deserves more than that," I said.
       "I agree, but back to my point. I'll be able to teach you some basic principles of composition, and I might be able to help you out with PhotoShop, if you need it. But I really don't think I'm on your level, son," he said. "I think you should drop the course."
       "Are you telling me I'm not going to pass it?" I asked.
       I didn't know what the hell he was really getting at.
       "Oh, absolutely not. I'm ready to give you an A right now, but I want you to know going in that you probably won't learn much," he said.
       "I want to stay in. I'll learn more than you think I will. Plus, my best friend is in here with me, and I want to encourage him to take pictures, too," I said.
       "Is he one of the boys in the book?" he asked.
       "Do you remember a picture of a naked boy with a watermelon seed stuck to his penis? That's him," I said. "That's Justin Davis, and he's in this class."
       "Oh, my," he said, and he sat down like he was weak or something.
       "Justin's in the book a bunch of times," I said.
       "I know," he said.
       "Mr. Potter, I need to go, okay?" I said.
       "I'm sorry, Kyle. I didn't think about the fact that you probably have another class. You're certainly welcome to stay in the course, and so is Justin. I'll see you Thursday," he said.
       "Yes, sir. Bye, and thank you," I said.
       I didn't have another class, but I had to piss so bad it was about to start leaking down my leg. Now wouldn't that have been a fine sight?! I found the nearest men's room, and I had my dick out as I was charging in. There was another guy in there standing at a urinal, but he didn't even look at me. I didn't care one bit. God, that was sweet relief.
       * * *
       Later that week the new people moved in next door. You only usually have two next-door neighbors, and I thought getting new ones was pretty exciting. I had seen them when the big truck drove up on Wednesday, and I had scoped them out from a distance. It was two boys and two men. I didn't know if there were ladies who would come later, or not.
       One of the things we always do in the South--although they probably do it everywhere else, too--is take food to people in some kind of turmoil. When somebody in a family dies, you load 'em up. Meat. Vegetables. Rice. Potatoes. Salad. That kind of stuff. When somebody new moves in, though, you go lighter. Nobody in our house said squat about getting them up something, so I did it Friday night.
       I had sort of mixed feelings about that, too. I mean, that was the night of the football jamboree, and that was something I loved every year when I was in high school. I knew a bunch of the alumni from my class were going to be there, but I didn't want to look like the kind who can't get enough of high school, even after they graduated. If one of my brothers was playing, I would have been there with bells on. But the fact was, they weren't. And I really did feel like we needed to be hospitable to our new neighbors. So, I decided to stay home and make coffeecakes.
       I actually had a good time making those things, too. I got Justin to come in the kitchen with me, and he and I drank beer while we worked. We didn't usually do that, but we were both college boys. I felt like we deserved a couple of beers. I mean, we were at home, not driving or anything, Friday night, and we knew Kevin and Rick didn't care. I guess legally we were drunk, but just barely. It was fun.
       The next day we took the cakes to the new neighbors and visited with them awhile. It turned out they were all gay. Go figure that! Somebody even said something about that. Gay or not, they were really nice guys, and I knew they were going to be our friends.
       "Jerry wants us to go to Mass tomorrow night, instead of tonight," Kevin said, as we were finishing up lunch. "Vince is going to be here, and he and Jerry are going to concelebrate."
       I wasn't real sure what that meant, but it was fine with me. I liked Vince a lot, and I loved Jerry to death.
       "Who wants to go skiing this afternoon?" I asked.
       Justin, Brian, and Tim said they wanted to, but Kevin and Rick had other things to do.
       "Let's ask Wade and Reid if they want to ski," Tim said.
       I had gotten their phone number while we were over there, so I called them. Wade answered.
       "Hey, it's Kyle," I said, after he had said hello.
       "Hi, Kyle. That coffee bread was really good, man. What's going on?" he said.
       "Thanks. We're going water skiing this afternoon. Do you and Reid want to go?" I asked.
       "Sure, but let me see if we can," he said.
       I could hear mumbled conversation. Reid's voice was pretty plain, and he definitely wanted to go. The two dads were mulling it over, but I couldn't understand what they were saying.
       "Yeah, we can go," Wade said.
       "Cool. Come on over," I said.
       "Okay. Give us a minute to put on bathing suits, and we'll be right there," Wade said.
       "Okay, but don't drag ass," I said.
       "We won't. Later," he said.
       They were at our backdoor in ten minutes, suited up. They were both wearing trunks that looked a lot like board shorts but weren't. I wondered if they surfed.
       We went down and got on the boat. Trixie and Krewe were right there with us like they wanted to go.
       "Stay, Trixie," Brian said, and she sat down on the dock. "Come on, Krewe," and she jumped on the boat.
       "You've got this ass backwards, Brian. Krewe needs to stay and Trixie can come with us. This dog is going to jump in the water every time somebody goes down," I said.
       "Kyle, I can't train her not to do that unless she goes out with us," Brian said. "That's how I trained Trixie. It's their instinct to go after things that go down, Kyle. The only way I can train Krewe not to do that is to have her out skiing with us," Brian said.
       "They go after things that go down?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah," Brian said.
       "Go down on what?" Justin asked.
       I thought that was pretty funny, and I started laughing. Reid and Wade looked at each other, like "Can we laugh at this? Is he making a pun or what?" When Brian started laughing, they did, too.
       "Not that," Brian said.
       "Oh, so we're both safe from the dogs," Justin said.
       "I am," Brian said. "I'm their master, you know," he said.
       "I know. That kind of creeps me out sometimes, too," Justin said.
       "I think this gives a whole new meaning to a boy dogging you, Justin," I said.
       They all laughed.
       We skied our asses off that afternoon. There wasn't any teaching those boys. They were both expert skiers, and all they did was slalom, like us. By the end of the afternoon, they were doing tricks on the ski, just like we did.
       Krewe got a lot of good instruction that day, too. I'm glad I let Brian bring her. Oh, she went in the first two or three times somebody went down, but by the end of the day she wasn't doing it anymore. I didn't know if that would stick, but I hoped it did. Getting a fifty pound dog out of the water wasn't easy. Brian was amazing with those dogs, that's for sure.
       We didn't get home till six o'clock, and Jimmy and Dave were on the patio with Kevin and Rick when we got there. They were having drinks, and I saw a party developing.
       "Do you guys want a drink?" I asked Wade and Reid. "Liquor, I mean. Or something else."
       "I'd love a drink," Wade said, and Reid seconded him.
       "What do you like? Bourbon and coke?" I asked.
       "Yeah. That's excellent," Reid said.
       Justin made the drinks, and I suddenly realized we were going to need food. Hell, it was six o'clock, and everybody was needing to eat. What was I going to serve? Hot dogs? I didn't think so. I raced into the kitchen to see what I could thaw real quick. There, on the counter, was a package from the really good deli in town. I ripped it open, and there were twenty prime filets. Really big ones, too. I opened the oven, and there was a whole sheet of twice-baked potatoes in there. I smiled. In the 'frige was a huge bowl of salad, and in the bottom oven was an asparagus casserole just waiting to be heated. There was a carrot cake and a lemon meringue pie on the counter. It looked like somebody had finally planned a party around this place, besides me.
       I had noticed they had some hors d'ouevres trays out already, so I went back out to socialize. Jeff, Tyler, Chuck, and Tony came in right about then, and we all hugged our brothers and introduced them to the new neighbors. I figured that Wade and Reid, as a new couple, were pretty much blown away, but they'd just have to get used to it.
       The newcomers got drinks--all beers, I think--but before long Tyler said, "Let's swim!" I loved Tyler to death because he was Jeff's partner, and I knew Jeff loved him. Plus, he was just a great, likeable guy.
       But that dude was a jock. Make no mistake about that. He loved sports better than anything. Well, maybe not anything, but you know what I'm saying. He was always ready to play some kind of sport, and he was good at it.
       When he said that, he started stripping off. He was naked in a minute, and the rest of his guys got naked, too.
       "Come on, let's go," I said, and I shimmied out of my Speedo and fluffed up my wee-wee a little bit. Everybody did that. Justin, Tim, and Brian stripped down, too. Denny and Murray, who had both spent the day with their intellectual friends, got naked, also.
       "Do we have to get naked?" Wade asked.
       "Only if you want to," I said. "Suits optional in this pool."
       Wade and Reid looked at each other and grinned. They had their trunks off in an instant, and I could tell they loved the feeling of being naked outdoors. I checked them out, of course, before they jumped in, but you know what? If you've seen one, you've pretty much seem 'em all. They were totally average in size. I did notice they didn't bother to trim up their pubic hair, but that was okay, too. They were just basically good, nice boys, and I was glad they were going to be our friends.
       "See that? They're cut. Both of them," Justin said.
       "I know. I'm glad we didn't bet on it, 'cause I would have lost," I said.
       "Kyle, you've got to re-think your view of the world, man," Justin said. He was grinning.
       "I know. I've got to re-think cut versus uncut, straight versus gay. All that stuff," I said.
       "Just don't re-think being you 'cause you're the best the way you are," he said.
       "Thank you for saying that. That means a whole lot to me, especially coming from you," I said.
       "If you're fixing to cry, forget it. I ain't making you no ice cream," he said.
       "Can I have a hug, at least?" I said.
       "Yeah, come here. Here's your hug."
       We had fun with the new neighbors. There were sixteen of us, and we got up a game of pool volleyball. It was pretty much old against young, with eight on a side. I insisted that Denny be on Rick's team, and I took Murray. I never waited until last to choose them, though, and neither did Rick. That business of saving the worst for last is bullshit, and it only hurts a guy's feelings for him not to be picked sooner than last. Even in school, at PE, I would do that if I was captain. I took some minor grief for it a few times from assholes who thought winning a game of shirts against skins in PE was the same thing as winning a medal at the Olympics, but it never bothered me.
       Wade and Reid were pretty good. I could tell that wasn't their first game of volleyball. They were both on my team, and one time Reid got really pissed off because Murray missed a hit. The first time it happened, he just made some stupid remark about him having elastic wrists or something like that. The second time, though, he screamed at Murray. I could tell he hurt Murray's feelings, too.
       I was next to Reid on the last row. I wasn't going to let him talk to Murray like that. I talked low so nobody could hear what I said, especially Murray.
       "Hey, buddy. Lighten up on him, okay? He can't help it," I said.
       "But he should have had that one, and the one before it, too. They're hitting it to him because they know he can't handle it," Reid said.
       "Yeah, and you or I would have gotten it. Maybe. Look, the boy's queer, he's an orphan, and he's sissified. Please don't make it any worse for him. We don't play like that here," I said.
       He pinched his nose with the thumb and index finger on his left hand, like maybe he was thinking or processing what I had said.
       "Okay," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I won't do it anymore."
       "Good. You'll have a lot more fun, and so will Murray. Now let's play," I said.
       To show him I didn't have any hard feelings, I jumped on him. We were treading water, and I dunked him.
       "Asshole," he said when he came up, but he was grinning. I grinned back.
       After we ate, we shifted into the clubhouse for pool and the other stuff we had in there.
       "Damn, this is nice," Wade said.
       We showed them around the kitchen, the weight room, the locker room, and, of course, the main room.
       "We call this the clubhouse, and you guys are welcome to come over any time to use it," Kevin said. "We entertain a good bit, and this place is perfect for that."
       "I can imagine," Jimmy said. "This must be like paradise for the boys."
       "It is," Rick said. "We've got five ten-top round tables, fifty chairs, and all the tableware you would need to feed fifty people a really nice dinner. We do that quite a bit."
       I noticed Reid talking to Murray, and then they shook hands. I figured Reid was apologizing, and I knew that boy must have character, if that's what he was doing. Kevin was eyeing the two of them, too, and he smiled when they shook.
       "Did you get onto Reid in the pool?" Kevin asked me in private.
       "I told him that's not the way we do it here. I think ole Reid must be a really good kid," I said.
       "Well, I'm glad you didn't embarrass Reid by fussing at him in front of everybody, but I was getting pretty damn pissed off at the way he was acting," Kevin said. "And his dad was embarrassed, too."
       "It looks to me like they made up," I said.
       "Yeah."

(Reid's Perspective)
       Things had not been good at home since just before the holidays. My step-dad came home from work on December 23rd with a pink slip in his hand, and that really put a damper on Christmas. He was an engineer for a major aircraft manufacturer, and the threat of a layoff had been looming large on the horizon ever since the September 11th terrorist attacks. People just weren't flying as much as they used to, and the aircraft industry took a major hit. What everybody had feared had finally happened, though, and my step-dad was out of work.
       I was expecting a new car for my seventeenth birthday in January, but that didn't look real promising after the layoff. The car I drove was a fifteen-year-old hand-me-down, and it was being held together by duct tape and baling wire. Randy, my step-dad, and I had spent countless hours working on it to keep that thing running, but it needed a new transmission in the worst way.
       In fact, I didn't get the new car for my birthday. That was okay, and I understood. The family was having a tough time financially, and my mother's teaching job brought in enough money for us to live on, but that was all. No extras, like a new car for the kid.
       Then, in early February, the transmission on my car finally gave it up, and I was back on my bike. I mean, they let me use my mom's car for outings with my friends and all, but I was back on the damn school bus every day that I couldn't ride my bike to school because of the weather. How humiliating!
       My step-dad kept getting his hopes raised that his company would call him back, but it never happened. He got a job at a computer repair shop, but he didn't make anywhere close to what he made as a senior project engineer with a huge company. I never did know why they didn't demote him and let some of the more junior engineers go, but they didn't. They laid off his entire department. I guess his skills were highly specialized, and they just didn't need him anymore.
       Things got to be pretty depressed around the house. My step-father was a fine man, and I really loved him, but not having a professional-level job really hit him hard. He would go for long periods without talking, and I'd hear him and my mom both crying late at night after everybody had gone to bed. Mom had to be "up" for her students, and all, but that was more or less just an act. She was just as depressed as Randy was.
       "How's it going, Reid?" my real dad asked me on the phone one day.
       "It's bad," I said. "Randy and Mom are both real depressed all the time, and it's starting to really get to me."
       "How's Jamison holding up?" he asked.
       Jamison was my younger half-sister. She was twelve years old, and I heard her crying in her room now and then, too.
       "I don't know. She's pretty sad, too," I said.
       "Are things really tight financially?" he asked. "I can send more child support, if they need me to."
       "Dad, I've thought about this a lot, and I really don't think it's about money all that much. Sure, things are tight, but they're not going to lose the house or anything. I think it's really about Randy feeling flattened by a force he can't control. He's even said that. He told me he feels like his balls have been cut off," I said.
       "Ouch," Dad said.
       I laughed a little.
       "I know. That would definitely hurt, wouldn't it?" I said.
       "Yeah, it would, but that's not what I meant. You and I have talked a bunch of times about the fact that Randy is a very decent guy, and I just hate it that he feels that way psychologically," he said. "For him to say that means he feels some fundamental change has occurred in his life, a change that cuts to the core of who he is."
       "I know," I said.
       My dad was gay, and I had known that for years, but that didn't make him any less my dad or any less the greatest guy I knew. I had had a sense that I was different from other guys for a long, long time, but when I started changing sexually and thinking about sex all the time when I was around twelve or thirteen, one day it suddenly occurred to me that I was gay, just like my dad. My initial reaction was panic. I didn't want to be gay. I wanted to be straight, like Randy, and I wanted to grow up and get married and have a family.
       I stewed about that a long time, but I never told anybody what I was thinking. I spent a month every summer with my dad and his partner, Dave, in Florida. My dad was a lawyer and Dave did taxes, or something like that. Dave had a son, too, and he would usually be there the same time I was. His name was Wade, and he and I hit it off so well, you wouldn't believe it. Wade was smart, good looking, athletic, kind, fun-loving. Everything.
       Wade and I both had computers, and we would swap emails and chat on Instant Messenger when we weren't together. I was aching to tell Wade that I thought I was gay, but I knew he wasn't. He would write to me and chat to me about the girls he dated. He never told me he had sex with his girlfriends, and I never asked. I assumed he had, though.
       The summer before Randy lost his job, I came out to my dad. I just flat out told him: "Dad, I'm gay."
       "A chip off the old block, huh?" he said.
       "You're not upset or disappointed or anything?" I asked.
       "Why would I be, Reid? It's just one more bit of evidence that homosexuality is genetic, the way I see it. Besides, why would it matter to me? I'm very happy as a gay man, and I know you will be, too, son. Have you told your mother?" he asked.
       "No. I'm not ready to do that yet," I said.
       "She's going to be fine with it," he said. "But you have to find your own place and your own time to come out to her."
       "I know," I said.
       I went to see Dad and Dave during Spring Break after the layoff. Wade's Spring Break came at a different time than mine did, so he wasn't there. It was just Dad and Dave and me. We talked a lot about what was going on at home for me, and, gradually, over the course of the week I was there, we hit on a plan for me to move in with them. I sort of hated the idea of missing my senior year at home, but it was getting harder and harder for me to take the darkness and the depression all the time. It was starting to make me depressed, and it didn't seem to be getting any better.
       "Let's call your mom and see what she thinks about your moving down here to live with us," Dad said one day.
       "Okay," I said.
       By that point, I really didn't think she'd care. I mean, I knew she and Randy loved me, but they were so wrapped up in their personal problems that I would be just one less thing they had to deal with. And I was right. Mom even said she had already thought about calling to see if I could stay, and that's what I did.
       I didn't even go home after Spring Break. They packed up my stuff (although they missed quite a few CD's and other things) and sent it down to me. My mother had no idea--at least from me--that I was gay, and I was going to get to live with the two happiest people I had ever been around.
       Dad and Dave were living in town--east of the bridge, as they said--but they were building a house on a magnificent lot on a lagoon on the beach proper. I enrolled in Crawford High School and finished out my junior year, but the next year we would be in the new house and I would be going to Beachside High School.
       * * *
       About a week after I was there, Wade's mother called. Dave spoke to Wade all the time, but he didn't usually speak to Wade's mom.
       "What did she want?" Dad asked Dave as soon as he got off the phone.
       "You're not going to believe this. She wanted to know if I'd 'take' Wade." He did his fingers in little quotation marks in the air when he said the word "take."
       "What?"
       "Yeah. Apparently her company wants her to relocate to England, and she's going to be traveling all over the damn place from there. She thinks he needs more stability than she can give him, so now it's time for him to live with his father," Dave said.
       "I hope you said 'yes,'" Dad said.
       "Of course I said 'yes,'" Dave said.
       "All right!" I said, enthusiastically.
       "He'll be here just as soon as school is out," Dave said. "It looks like our boys are going to be with us full time from now on."
       "That's wonderful," Dad said.
       "Oh, in other news, Wade came out to her as a 'homosexualist.' Her word. Honest to God," Dave said.
       "'Homosexualist?'" Dad asked.
       "Don't ask me where she got it. Maybe she just can't bring herself to say 'homosexual,' or 'gay,' or even 'queer.' Wade's not like you and me, Babe. He's a homosexualist, according to his mother," Dave said.
       Dad and Dave laughed a little bit.
       When Dave said Wade had come out, I got hard instantly. I was juicing out pre-cum in about three heartbeats, and I was grinning my fool ass off. They noticed. The grin, anyway.
       "You like Wade, don't you?" Dave asked.
       "Yeah, I like Wade. Of course, I like Wade. Wade's a great guy," I said.
       They smiled at each other, and I figured they were thinking, "Yeah, he likes Wade because he's in love with him." And if they thought that, they wouldn't be wrong. But did Wade feel that way about me? God, I hope he did.
       Well, it turned out he did.
       We lived in a three-bedroom house on a nice street in a section of town known as The Cove. Dad and Dave shared a bedroom, of course, but Wade and I each had our own room. The first night Wade was there, Dad and Dave had to go to a party for some people they knew who were getting married. It was a Saturday, and Wade and I stayed home to watch movies, or whatever.
       "Wade, there's something about me I want to tell you," I said.
       "Is it that you're gay?" he asked.
       "Yeah. How'd you know that?" I asked.
       "I guess it just takes one to know one," he said.
       "There's more, though," I said.
       "I hope you're going to say what I want you to say," he said.
       "I hope so, too," I said.
       Then there was a long pause.
       "What were you going to tell me?" Wade asked.
       "Don't get mad, okay?" I said.
       "Okay," he said.
       "Wade, I love you," I said.
       "Really?" he asked.
       I couldn't say "really" in return. I was way too emotional to say anything. I just nodded.
       "That's what I was hoping for because I'm in love with you, too. I have been for a long time. God, I've wanted to tell you that for three years. I love you, Reid. You're all I think about. That's why I stay hard all the time. I love you!"
       That's when we kissed for the first time. It was sort of tentative at first, but pretty soon we got the tongues involved. You know how that is. We kissed and touched each other above the waist through our clothes. I got the bright idea to take his tee shirt off, and then he took mine off, too. We were still kissing, still touching each other. He moved his mouth down to one of my nipples, and he worked it with his tongue and teeth. It was gentle, but--Oh, my God!--it was so intense. I had my fingers on his nipples, too, making them hard, making them feel good.
       Without warning, I came in my shorts. It was that intense. Seconds later, he did the same thing.
       In a few moments, we pulled apart. We were breathing like racehorses.
       "I came," Wade said. "Did you?"
       "Yeah," I gasped out.
       "That was my first time," Wade said.
       "Your first time coming?" I asked. I thought he was a little old for that to be his first time.
       "No. Not my first time coming. My first time coming with another person," he said.
       "Oh. Me, too," I said.
       "So, I guess we aren't virgins anymore," he said.
       "I guess not. Would you like to sleep in my room tonight?" I asked.
       "Yes. Definitely," he said. "Tonight, and every night from now on."
       It was only about nine o'clock, but we went to bed then, anyway. There was a lot I wanted to do with Wade, and he wanted it as badly as I did. That was so cool. We got a good start that night, but we left room for future growth.

(Murray's Perspective)
       I got my feelings hurt by that Reid guy when we were playing volleyball. Kyle and Rick were the captains that night. They usually were, unless the captains were Kevin and Justin. But either way, it didn't matter. Kyle chose me third. I knew I wasn't any good at sports, but I hated worse than anything to be chosen last for a team. They never did that to me or Denny, and I loved them for that as much as for anything.
       Reid was a really nice guy, and I could tell that. But he got carried away during that game, and he cussed me out. He said I had elastic wrists and that I played like a retarded girl. I knew I did, but that really hurt in front of all those guys. He didn't have to say that. That really hurt my feelings.
       I saw Kyle talking to him, though. He left me alone after that talk, and later, he apologized to me for saying what he had said. That cheered me up quite a bit. Plus, I slugged down a couple of swallows of Kyle's drink, when he set it down, and Justin's, too, when he and I were outside smoking.
       "That little fucker Reid's got a lot to learn, ain't he?" Jus said.
       "He hurt my feelings a little bit," I said.
       "He hurt 'em a lot, and Kyle and I need to grind his nut sack into the dust with the heels of our boots," Justin said.
       I laughed. I knew he was carrying on, just like he always did.
       "Laugh if you want to, but stand back when his balls pop. Don't get any in your eye," he said.
       I laughed harder.
       "Can I show you something?" he asked.
       "Sure. What?" I said.
       "The way you hold your cigarette. That drives me crazy, man. Look. Hold it like this."
       I was holding it with the tips of my fingers, and he wanted me to hold it half-way down my fingers. And he wanted me to crook my fingers a little bit, too.
       "The way I showed you is the way a man holds a cigarette. The way you hold it is the way a woman does. That's something you can fix, man," Jus said.
       I instantly knew he was right.
       "I'll do better," I said.
       "Well, it's a little thing, you know, but people notice that kind of thing. Of course, you don't really smoke enough to get real practice. That's about the third one I've seen you smoke," he said.
       "You don't smoke much, either," I said.
       "I know. I used to smoke a pack a day, but now a pack a week is about my speed. Ever since I came here I've been smoking less and less. I don't know what it is. Kyle hasn't had a cigarette in weeks. At least not that I've seen. I don't know why," he said.
       "Back to Reid. You're not really going to hurt him, are you?" I said.
       "Naw. Reid's a good guy, I think. He just got a little carried away tonight. Did he say he was sorry?" he asked.
       "Yeah, he did. I'm cool with Reid. But Jus, I'm getting picked on at school," I said.
       "What do you mean, 'getting picked on?'" he asked.
       "Being called names. Having my books knocked out from under my arms. Being shoved up against lockers. That sort of thing. He always does it when nobody else is around, too," I said.
       "I think that's a pretty tolerant school," Justin said. "Who is this guy?"
       "His name is Marshall Davis, and he's new at Beachside this year. He's a sophomore like me," I said.
       "Marshall Davis? That's my cousin," he said.
       "Really?"
       He grinned. "No, he ain't my cousin. I ain't got no fucking cousins. I ain't got nobody but the boys in this house. Have you talked to Tim and Brian about it?"
       "No. You're the first one I've mentioned it to, but it's getting really old, you know?" I said.
       "Tomorrow morning we're going to have Sunday Family Time, and I want you to bring it up. If you don't, I will. We're going to nip this in the bud, Bubba. This little boy needs some instruction, and I'd bet money he's fixing to get it," Jus said.
       "Justin, thank you so much," I said.
       "You're welcome. Now let's get your smoking down right. Light up another one. You don't have to inhale. This is rehearsal for the way a guy smokes. Okay, now light up," Justin said.
       That guy was so intense about the way I held a cigarette that it was funny. But he wanted me to look like a guy when I smoked. He was right when he said I didn't smoke enough for it to matter, but the fact that he cared at all mattered a great deal to me.
       That was so typical of the guys in that house. They cared about the details of my life, and I thought that meant they cared about me. I knew Kevin and Rick cared, but one by one, detail by detail, the boys were showing me they cared as well.
       It was little things. Brian gave me his notes from AP European History, and those helped a great deal. Tim bought me an electric shaver after I massacred my face with the blade razor Kyle had bought me. Rick took Denny and me to a huge bookstore in Destin and gave us each fifty dollars to buy books. Kevin took me shopping for clothes. They were all wonderful to me.
       "Denny, I think I've died and gone to heaven," I said.
       "You mean this house?" he asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "These guys are unbelievable," Denny said. "I know what you mean."

Chapter 04

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Rick put his hand on my chest when we got into bed. That was his sign that he wanted to make love.
       He started moving his hand around on me, and that was beginning to arouse me. Any time he touched me in anything more intimate than a handshake, I started growing down below. That night I relished his touch. We kissed.
       "I love the way you smell," he said.
       "Do I smell like aftershave?" I asked.
       "Not really. You smell like Kevin," he said. "Do I smell like Rick to you?"
       I got playful and started sniffing around the various parts of his body. We always sleep nude, so I moved down to his crotch, sniffing away. In point of fact, the aroma of that part of his body was a total turn-on for me, and I nudged his hard-on with my nose. I didn't just do that, though. I took him into my mouth.
       He moaned a bit.
       "Turn around so I can get at you, too," he said.
       I did as he asked, and I felt the exquisite heat of his wet mouth on my dick. We kept that up for a long while, stopping when the other one was near orgasm. Finally, after several close calls, we made each other come.
       "Wow! That was intense," he said when we were both recovered and cuddled in each other's arms.
       "It was for me, too. I love the way you build me up to it gradually," I said.
       "I like that, too, and it always makes me come harder than I usually do," he said.
       "Same here. I wonder how many other people in this house and next door did the same thing tonight," I said.
       "I don't know. I had fun tonight with the new neighbors. Did you?" he asked.
       "Yeah. I got a little pissed off when Reid was angry at Murray for missing the ball, but Kyle set him straight on that point. Reid apologized to Murray, and I saw them shaking hands," I said.
       "Good for Kyle. Evidently he did it without threatening Reid, too, because the two of them seemed to get along fine," Rick said.
       "Yeah. I think Kyle's growing up and learning how to be a little more diplomatic than he used to be. Babe, I'm going to turn out the light now," I said.
       "Okay. I love you, Mr. Foley," he said and kissed me.
       "I love you, Mr. Mashburn," and I returned the kiss.
       Rick and I always made love with the lights on. We had tried it a few times in the dark, but one of our great joys of sex was watching the other one's reactions to what we did. For that we needed light.
       I switched the light off, and in seconds we were both asleep, holding each other gently.
       * * *
       From the depths of sleep, I heard a ringing sound that seemed to get louder as I began to wake up. Rick usually set his alarm clock for five o'clock so he could get up and run to start his day. I had gotten so used to it that the alarm rarely woke me up anymore. Besides, the sound I was hearing was more like a phone than an alarm clock.
       I switched on the bedside lamp on my side of the bed, and I was suddenly blinded by the light. I grabbed the phone.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hello? Mr. Foley?" the voice asked.
       "Yes, this is Kevin Foley. Who is this?"
       "This is Sergeant Green with the Florida Highway Patrol. I'm sorry to disturb you in the middle of the night."
       A million thoughts ran through my mind. Had there been an accident? Was one of the kids hurt? What was wrong?
       "That's okay. What's wrong?" I asked.
       Rick was awake by then.
       "Who is it?" he whispered.
       I held up my hand to indicate that I had to pay attention to the phone.
       "Sir, one of the employees of Goodson Enterprises got into a scrape earlier tonight. He got beat up at a truck stop up on Highway 231. He's not hurt bad, but it's like he's catatonic or something. I can't get anything out of him, and he doesn't have any ID on him. He's wearing a Goodson Enterprises tee shirt, though. I need for you or somebody to come and get him, if you will."
       "Is he drunk?" I asked.
       "No, he doesn't seem to be, and I don't smell any alcohol on him or anything. I think he's having some kind of emotional reaction or something," Green said. "I've known Gene Goodson for years, and his daddy, too, and I know he'd want to help this boy."
       "Hold on a minute," I said into the phone.
       "What's going on?" Rick asked when I covered the mouthpiece of the phone.
       "Some kid who works for Goodson got beaten up tonight. He doesn't have ID, and he's catatonic. This is the Highway Patrol, and they want me to come and get him," I said.
       "Well, if anybody goes, we'll go together, Babe. Is the guy drunk?" Rick asked.
       "He says not," I said. "What should we do?"
       "What time is it?" Rick asked.
       I looked at the clock next to the bed.
       "It's two o'clock in the morning," I said.
       "Jesus Christ," Rick replied. "They didn't prepare us for this kind of thing in hotel school, did they?"
       I chuckled.
       "Tell him we're coming," Rick said.
       I told the Sergeant we were on our way and hung up.
       "How do they know the guy works for GE?" Rick said, as we were driving to the Highway Patrol station. "And how the hell did they know to call us?"
       "Apparently he has on a company tee shirt. I don't know how he knew to call us. He said the guy doesn't have any ID, so I wonder if he was robbed," I said.
       "Probably. They probably just took his whole wallet. Kevin, this is what comes of being a big fish in a little pond," Rick said.
       "What are you talking about?" I asked.
       "Well, only in a place like this would the cops call a perfect stranger in the middle of the night to come bail out an employee, a possible employee, really. I can just imagine the cop's thought processes. 'He's wearing a tee shirt that says "Goodson Enterprises," so he must work there. The Goodson's are good people, and they take care of their own. I'll just get that Foley guy's ass out of bed in the middle of the night to effect the rescue.'"
       I laughed.
       "You're probably right on target," I said. "The cop said he knows Gene and he knew Gene's daddy, too. He was thinking we're going to keep this quiet and all in the family."
       "Exactly," he said.
       Rick was driving, and he pulled into the parking lot at the Patrol station. There were a couple of other cars there, and a man and a woman came out as we were going in. The man was drunk, and the woman was bitching him out. I wondered if she had been called, too.
       "I'd hate to be that guy, if it's what it looks like," Rick said.
       "Yeah, me, too," I said.
       There was a young woman at the counter in the front of the station. I told her who I was and asked for Sergeant Green. She went into the back, and a fifty-ish man in a Highway Patrol uniform came out. We made the introductions.
       "Come back into my office," he said.
       We went into his office, and the guy in there was Kenny Balch. And, yes, he definitely was a Goodson employee. He worked for Tony in Information Services, in fact. When he looked up and saw who it was, he burst into tears.
       I didn't know what to do. I knew Kenny, but I didn't know him well. I spent time every day talking with the employees in the Goodson Building, so I knew Kenny was newly married and that he loved golf. He didn't have any children yet, but I knew he wanted a family eventually. He was probably twenty-five or twenty-six, somewhere in that neighborhood. He was a very good-looking guy usually, but at that moment he had an ugly black eye, no doubt from the beating he had taken.
       "Do you know this gentleman, Mr. Foley?" Sergeant Green asked.
       "Yes, he works for Goodson. His name is Kenny Balch," I said.
       "Do you know if he's married?" Green asked.
       "Yes, he is. He's been married about six months, I guess," I said.
       "I'm going to call his wife and ask her to come get him," Green said.
       "NO!!!" Kenny screamed out. "Don't call her. We're not together any more."
       That came as a shock. I had seen some pictures of their wedding, and they seemed extremely happy.
       "Mr. Foley, can I speak to you for a moment in the hall?" Green asked.
       "Sure," I said.
       "Sir, this is a little more complicated than I've told you. We caught the guy who beat him up, and he claims Mr. Balch administered oral sex to him in the parking lot of the truck stop," Green said.
       "I see," I said. I thought about how Rick and I had made love earlier that evening.
       "This is beginning to look a lot like a hate crime, if that's true," the Sergeant said.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "If there's a trial, that will surely come out, and this boy's whole life here could be ruined," he said.
       "I see your point," I said.
       Ordinarily, when I heard about gay bashings, I wanted the victim to prosecute to the full extent of the law. In my mind, that was simple. But, I never thought I'd be in a situation like I was in that night. I was fully out to everyone, and having my sexual orientation argued in a courtroom didn't seem all that terrible. Suddenly, I saw the whole thing very differently from Kenny's point of view.
       "My advice to Mr. Balch is to forget about pressing charges. We'll do it if he wants to, but . . . "
       "Are there any witnesses to the beating?" I asked.
       "Yes, there are," he said.
       "Is the perpetrator under arrest?" I asked.
       "Not yet. We brought him in for questioning, but we haven't arrested him," he said.
       "So, technically, you could let him go tonight. Am I right?"
       "Yes, sir. That's right," he said.
       "Are you asking me to make a decision?" I asked, rather stunned that he might be doing just that.
       "I know it seems unorthodox, and I guess it really is, but in Mr. Balch's condition, I don't think we'd get a rational decision out of him right now. The perp is a local, so we can always arrest him later if Mr. Balch wants to press charges," he said.
       "Why don't you let me and my partner take him home tonight. We'll try to talk to him tomorrow and explain the situation to him. Our new next door neighbor is a lawyer. Maybe he can help," I said.
       "I'll let the perp go then," Green said. "Thank you for taking care of this boy."
       "We take care of lots of boys," I said.
       "Oh?"
       "We run a group foster home for gay boys," I said.
       He got a big grin on his face.
       "Then you know my good friend, Tyrone Williams, I'll bet," he said.
       "We know Tyrone very well," I said.
       "Small world," Sergeant Green said.
       "No. Small town," I said, and he laughed.
       Green went back into the office, but I stayed in the hall. I motioned for Rick to join me.
       "I think we ought to take him home to our house for tonight," I said.
       "Yeah, me, too. What's the scoop from Green?"
       "They caught the guy who did it. He says that Kenny gave him a blowjob in the parking lot of the truck stop where it happened. You heard his reaction to the mention of his wife. It's plausible to me," I said.
       "Yeah, I know," he said. "Why'd he beat him? Did Kenny not swallow?"
       I laughed, and Rick did, too.
       I went back in Sergeant Green's office.
       "Come on, Kenny. You're coming home with Rick and me," I said.
       He looked like he was a lot calmer than he was when we first got there.
       "Okay," he said.
       "Where's your car, Kenny?" Rick asked.
       "Truck stop," he said.
       "I wouldn't recommend leaving it there," Sergeant Green said. "There might not be anything left of it tomorrow."
       "Where is this truck stop?" Rick asked.
       "It's not that far from here," Green said. "It's straight up this highway, about ten miles. It's on the east side of the road. You can't miss it."
       "Have you got the keys?" I asked.
       "Yes, sir," Kenny said.
       Once we were in the car and traveling, I asked, "Kenny, did the man rob you?"
       "No, sir," he said. "He just beat me."
       "Where's your wallet? The officer said you didn't have any identification on you," I said.
       "It's at home. I didn't want to be robbed, so I didn't bring it," he said.
       "Do you want to tell us what happened?" Rick asked.
       "No, sir," Kenny said.
       "Kenny, how old are you?" Rick asked.
       "I'm twenty-six," he said.
       "Well, Kevin and I are twenty-seven. We want you to call him Kevin and me Rick, and lose the 'yes, sir-no, sir' shit, too, okay," Rick said.
       "Okay," Kenny said.
       "You and your wife split up?" I asked.
       "Yes, sir," he said. "About a month ago. She put me out."
       "Are you upset about that?" I asked.
       "Not really. We should never have gotten married," he said.
       "Weren't you in love with her?" I asked, realizing all the while that I was prying into that man's personal life much more than was justified.
       "I liked her a lot, and I thought I could go through with it. It just didn't work out, though," he said.
       "Kenny, you know Rick and I are a gay couple, don't you?" I asked.
       If he didn't know that, he was the only one in the building who didn't know it.
       "I had heard that," he said.
       "Well, it's true. We're gay, and we have a houseful of gay boys, too. Foster sons," I said.
       He didn't respond to that news.
       "I'm telling you that to let you know that being gay isn't the worst thing in the world. Rick and I are extremely happy with each other, and our boys are happy, too," I said.
       Again, no response.
       "Kenny, are you gay?" I finally asked point blank.
       He didn't say anything, but he started crying. I took that for a "yes."
       "It's okay, Bubba," Rick said.
       Kenny was in the back seat, and I turned around to face him. I put my hand on his knee as a gesture of support, but he pulled away from me.
       "Did you know the man who beat you?" I asked.
       "Yes," he sniffled. "He's my brother's best friend."
       "Shit," Rick said.
       "He's telling the police you gave him a blowjob. It's really none of my business if you did or didn't, and I really don't care if you did. But that fact has implications for what you decide to do about pressing charges," I said.
       "I ain't pressing any charges," he said immediately. "Yeah, I gave him one, and, yeah, I am gay. I've been gay all my life. I've loved him all my life, too, but that was the first time anything like that happened between us. He hit me and called me a motherfucking faggot, Kevin. I thought he loved me." He dissolved into tears.
       We were just getting to the truck stop, and there was a fleet of eighteen wheelers parked there for the night. There were only a handful of cars in the car-parking area.
       "Which one is yours?" Rick asked.
       "That little Escort over there," Kenny said through his tears.
       "Babe, I'll drive his car," I said. "I don't think he needs to drive right now."
       "Good idea," Rick said. "See you at home."
       Rick leaned over, and we kissed, as much for Kenny's benefit as our own.
       "We're going to stop and get something to eat," I said to Rick.
       "Okay. See you at home," he said.
       Kenny got in his car with me.
       "Are you hungry?" I asked.
       By then it was five o'clock, and I was more than a little hungry. Plus, I wanted a cigarette badly, and I hadn't thought to bring mine with me.
       "I didn't eat last night," he said dully.
       "Let's get some early breakfast," I said.
       I pulled into a Waffle House parking lot. There was a gas station-convenience store that was part of a complex of retail places, and we went in and I bought myself a pack of smokes.
       "Do you need anything?" I asked Kenny.
       "I could use some smokes, too," he said, so I bought him a pack. I bought each of us a plastic lighter, as well. Spare no expense, I thought, ironically.
       Once in the Waffle House, we both lit up. The waitress took our orders, and we sipped our coffee as we smoked.
       "Do you know what has four tits and two teeth?" I asked.
       He looked at me without any expression.
       "The midnight shift at a Waffle House," I said.
       Emerald Beach was widely reputed to have the greatest number of Waffle Houses and Waffle Shops in the country, per capita, and that was an old joke among the locals. Kenny at least thought it funny enough to smile.
       "That's an old one," I said.
       "I know. I've heard it all my life," he said.
       Whatever mirth the joke had engendered was soon gone, and he had a look of utter sadness on his face.
       "Does your face hurt?" I asked.
       "Why? Is it killing you?" he said, finishing the old joke.
       "I meant that seriously, Ken," I said. "It looks like that bruise might hurt."
       "It doesn't hurt bad. I mean, I can feel it, and it burns a little, but I don't really have a headache or anything," he said.
       "But you're sad, aren't you?" I asked.
       "Yeah, I guess I am," he said. "I guess I pretty much fucked up my life tonight."
       "No, you didn't, Kenny," I said.
       "I don't know," he said.
       "What makes you think that you did, man?" I asked.
       "Well, getting you and Rick out in the middle of the night, coming out to y'all, having Wayne beat me like he did. That's pretty fucked up, don't you think?" he said.
       "There are other ways to look at that. First, you found out that Rick and I care enough to get out in the middle of the night. Second, you found out that Rick and I don't care if you're gay. Third, you found out you don't have a future with Wayne," I said. "I think that's a hell of a lot of good stuff to learn in a night. I don't consider that fucking up at all."
       He smiled an ironic smile.
       "When you put it that way, I guess not," he said.
       "And that's the way we have to look at it," I said.
       "Here you are, boys. Enjoy your breakfast," the waitress said, as she laid down our platters of food.
       "I counted three teeth," he said, in all seriousness.
       "I counted five," I said, and he and I both laughed hard.
       That joke definitely turned a corner in Kenny's mood that night. We ate our platters of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, grits, and toast, with a waffle on the side. Toothless came back several times to refill our coffee cups, and she actually seemed like a pretty nice girl. She also actually had a mouthful of teeth, too.
       It was starting to get light when we left the Waffle House. I had been running on adrenalin for several hours at that point, and I was aching to get back in bed with Rick. I put Kenny in one of the empty bedrooms on the third floor. Murray had moved down to the second floor after Paddy had gone home, so the third floor was empty. As I was creeping down the stairs, trying my best not to make any noise, I heard a loud whisper.
       "Kevin!"
       It was Kyle.
       "What? Go back to bed. It's too early to get up," I said.
       He came out of the bedroom and walked toward me. He was naked and half hard.
       "I woke up to go to the bathroom. What are you doing up here?" he asked.
       "It's a long story. We'll tell you all about it in the morning. There's a guy on the third floor, so if you see him, don't freak out, okay?"
       "Who is he? Do I know him? Is he a kid?" Kyle asked.
       "No, he's not a kid. I don't know if you know him or not, but we'll talk about it tomorrow, okay?" I said.
       "It is tomorrow," he said.
       "I know, but I've been up since two o'clock. Please go back to bed and make Tim feel good, or whatever it is you do to him," I said.
       He grinned that grin of his that was half devil and half angel.
       "Okay, but you've got me so excited about this news that I'm trembling," he said.
       He wasn't trembling one damn bit, but it was cute the way he said it.
       "Go to bed," I said. "I love you."
       "I love you, too. Good morning."
       When I finally got in bed, the warmth Rick's body had already made there enveloped me. I snuggled up to him, and he instinctively put his arm around me. I was out in less than a minute.

(Justin's Perspective)
       Brian and I woke up hard that Sunday morning, just like we did every other damn day. I saw a difference between an erection, which happened by nature, and a hard-on, which happened by Brian. Those things in the morning were definitely erections, and there wasn't anything good you could do with them until they turned into hard-ons.
       He got up to pee first, and, when he did, it was like he opened a hosepipe into the toilet. He didn't flush it because he knew I was right behind him. It took me a few seconds to get the stream started, but when it started, it started big.
       He was grinning his ass off at me when I came back into the bedroom.
       "What are you being so cute about? Huh?" I said.
       "I'm not being cute," he said.
       "Oh, yes, you are," I said.
       We were both smiling big at each other.
       "No, I'm not. I'm being horny," he said.
       "Is this thing right here giving you trouble?" I asked. I had his dick in my hand, and it was growing fast.
       "Yeah, it is," he said.
       "I want this in me today," I said.
       "Really?" he asked, sort of surprised.
       "Yeah, Little Buddy. I want you to fuck me," I said. "I've been thinking about it for a few days, and I need it."
       Brian was usually the bottom boy in our relationship, and he loved it. I had had some problems being the bottom for a good while, but he had started topping me some lately. I knew he enjoyed being the top now and then, and I had started wanting bottom more, too.
       Everything about Brian being the top was good. He knew just how to loosen me up, get me so hot for him I couldn't wait, and then he pressed home the business like a champion. That morning he fucked me so good I almost passed out. There are just a few seconds between the time your orgasm begins and the time you shoot cum, and that is the most intense. That morning it was so long I didn't think I would ever shoot.
       He flopped down next to me after he pulled out, and he was covered with sweat. I licked a little off his face, and he grinned. We laid there resting for a while until we got our breath back, and I was thinking the whole time how lucky I was. I didn't just mean lucky in the sex part, although that boy really knew what to do with a dick. I was just pure lucky to have him.
       After ten minutes or so, I lit up a cigarette. He picked it up out of the ashtray and took a big drag. He inhaled the smoke, and he didn't cough.
       "Have you started smoking?" I asked.
       "That's the first drag I've had in a long time. The last time was with you," he said.
       "Well, that's been months, then," I said.
       "Yeah," he said. "It's making me a little bit light-headed."
       "That light-headed stuff is what got me hooked, I think," I said.
       "Do you still get light-headed?"
       "If I go a couple of days without smoking I do," I said.
       "Let's get up," he said.
       I stabbed out my smoke, and we took a shower together. We both got hard again in the shower, and we took advantage of that. Isn't that what Sunday mornings are for?
       * * *
       When we went downstairs, Kyle and Tim were already in the den. They had gotten in the Sunday papers, but they hadn't opened them yet.
       "What the hell have y'all been up to?" Kyle asked.
       "None of your damn business," I said, "but it was probably the same thing you and Tim were doing."
       "You've got to tell me. I'm keeping the official sex database on this house," he said.
       "Kyle, you're so full of bullshit, there are cows stampeding to this house from all over Emerald Beach," I said.
       "There aren't any cows in Emerald Beach," he said.
       "Not true. I saw two in a convertible with the top down just yesterday. Alabama tag on the car, too, of all things," I said.
       They all laughed.
       "Oh, that kind. Jesus, that's the worst," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, and they're both craving bull gravy, Kyle. Yours," I said.
       "What the hell is bull gravy?" Kyle asked.
       "It's your cum, man. They're craving your cum, Kyle, and they're coming here to get it," I said.
       "I never heard cum called bull gravy before," Kyle said.
       "Well, that's what they call it in some places. You don't know everything," I said.
       "I know. I know very little, and I'm the first to admit that," he said.
       "I think we're facing a lifetime of this kind of stuff, Bri," Tim said.
       "I know. Let's go make the coffee," Brian said.
       When they left the room, Kyle said,
       "There's a new guy here this morning."
       "How do you know that?"
       "I got up to take a piss real early this morning, and I caught Kevin creeping down the stairs. He told me he put a new guy on the third floor, and he's not a kid," Kyle said.
       "Well, who is he?"
       "He wouldn't tell me. He said he'd explain this morning. He said he had been up since two o'clock, and it was around six when I caught him," Kyle said.
       Just then the dogs came in with Brian and Tim, and the dogs were carrying a tray with coffee cups, spoons, cream, and sugar. It was a flat basket, and each dog had one of the little handles in her mouth. They set it down on the coffee table, and one of the cups fell over. Brian was so damn proud of that trick he was beaming all over himself. The dogs seemed proud, too. Kyle and I clapped.
       "How did you teach 'em to do that?" Kyle asked.
       "Patience," Brian said.
       "Bubba, I can't believe the stuff you've taught them to do," Kyle said. "We're going to set this up again later today so I can get some pictures of it, okay?"
       "Okay," Brian said.
       Brian and I had just made love twice, but when I saw how cute he was with those dogs, I boned right up. Of course, Mister Never-Miss-a-Thing noticed.
       "What's this thing all about?" Kyle asked, putting his hand on my dick.
       "It's about me loving Brian, Kyle, and get your fucking hand off of it," I said. "It don't belong to you, and you know it."
       "Sorry, Bubba. I didn't mean anything by it. You know that," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry I snapped at you," I said.
       "You got that lovey stuff bad, though, don't you?" he said.
       "Shut up, Kyle," I said, laughing. "Can I have a cup of coffee, please?"
       "Don't change the subject," Kyle said.
       "Look, Kyle. I am totally and completely in love with Brian Mathews. Like you don't know that. Is that what you wanted to hear? And you know what else, Kyle? I happen to know you feel the same way about Tim that I feel about Brian. So fuck you, Bubba," I said.
       "I think you just came out to me," Kyle said.
       "I used to think the devil's name was Satan. But it ain't. It's Kyle, and, specifically, it's Kyle Goodson," I said.
       "I ain't the devil," Kyle said, laughing along with the rest of us.
       "It would take God to tell, Kyle," I said.
       "I'm picturing Kyle in heaven with a camera dangling from one of his wings," Brian said.
       Tim thought that was funny as hell.
       "Yeah, y'all laugh now, but when I sell those pictures of heaven to CNN, y'all ain't getting none of the royalties," Kyle said.
       Murray drifted down while we were still laughing from the last thing Kyle had said. He had the worst bed head I had seen in a long time, and he was still hard in those briefs. I liked that kid better than I ever intended to. In fact, I thought he was a pretty neat guy.
       "Good morning," I said.
       "Morning," he mumbled.
       "Brian, send the dogs back for a cup for Murray," I said.
       "I think I'd better get that," Brian said. Trixie and Krewe were right behind him.
       "I'm sore," Murray said.
       "Yeah? Who'd you spend the night with?" I asked.
       "What do you mean?" Murray asked.
       "Justin, he ain't sore that way, and you know it, you dumb fuck," Kyle said.
       He and I grinned at each other.
       "I don't know what you all are talking about, but volleyball isn't for me," Murray said. "It hurts too much the next day."
       "We've got to get your ass started on the weights, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "I know you're right, but, God, that sounds awful to me right now," Murray said.
       "We'll help you, Murray," I said. "And we can help you lose a few pounds, too."
       The boy was fat for his age and size, and there was no question about it. I had wanted to say something about it since the first day he got there, but I also didn't want to hurt his feelings, either. I figured that if he didn't trust us by now, he never would. It was time to take the bull by the horns.
       "I know I'm overweight," he said.
       "Murray, you know we're saying this stuff because we care about you, right? I mean, we're not making fun, and if you try, and still can't cut the weight, you will never hear about that from me again. But I want you to try. We all do. I think you'll be a lot happier," I said.
       "I know I'll be happier when I'm thinner and stronger. I just don't know how to do it," he said.
       Brian was back in the room by then with a coffee cup for Murray.
       "Weight Watchers is supposed to be one of the best diets," Brian said. "They have meetings once a week where they teach people how to lose weight, and they teach principles of good nutrition."
       "How will I get there?" he asked.
       "Bubba, look in the fucking driveway. We've got six cars in this family. We'll get you there and home. Don't worry about that. I could probably use me a little nutrition study myself. Basically, I just eat what they put on the table, but that might not be the best thing for me," I said. "Let's you and me join up together, okay?"
       "They won't take you," Brian said.
       "How do you know that?" I asked.
       "My mom has been a lifetime Weight Watchers member, Buddy. I've heard her talking about it," Brian said. "You have to be at least ten pounds overweight, and you're not. None of us are."
       "Yeah, but can't I go and just sit?" I asked.
       "Yeah, you can probably do that, especially if you're his ride. I'll go with you, too."
       "I wouldn't mind learning about good eating habits, either," Tim said.
       "Shit, I ain't staying home if y'all are all going," Kyle said.
       "I'll call tomorrow and find out the details," Tim said.
       "All my life I've been fat, and I've hated it. Nobody has ever hinted that I could do something about it, and now you guys are telling me you're going to go with me to Weight Watchers? I can't believe this," Murray said.
       "Believe it, Bubba. I pretty much call the shots in the kitchen around this place, and you're going to cut your weight. I guarantee it," Kyle said.
       "What the hell is this coming in?" I asked. I was referring to Denny who looked really tired and really sore.
       "Good morning. I think my arms died last night," Denny said.
       "Get your ass in here with your brothers, you little wimp," Kyle said. "You want juice, not coffee, don't you? What a pain in the ass."
       Denny grinned big, and Kyle grinned back bigger. Kyle got up and got him a glass of orange juice, though.
       "What's going on?" Denny asked.
       "We're talking about Murray's make-over, phase II," I said.
       "Oh," Denny said.
       "Oh? Is that all you can say?" I demanded.
       "Leave me alone, Bubba," Denny said. He was a cute boy, that's for sure.
       "Leave you alone? No. I'm going to pester the shit out of you all day today," I said.
       "Brian, make him stop," Denny said.
       It was cute the way he said that, and all of us laughed.
       "I'm hungry. I'm getting some of that coffeecake from yesterday," Kyle said.
       He got up and went into the kitchen. He came back in a few minutes with a platter of coffeecake. That stuff was really good, and he brought out a stick of butter to spread on it. Murray didn't need any of that, but we weren't starting Weight Watchers that morning. I noticed he downed about five pieces, with plenty of butter. That kind of eating was fixing to come to a screeching halt for him, but that day it was okay. One last fling.
       "Where are Kevin and Rick?" I asked. It was getting late, and "family time" was about over.
       "They were up till early this morning," Kyle said. "I ain't waking 'em up."
       "Murray, it's your turn to wake 'em up," I said.
       He got this horrified look on his face, like he thought I was serious.
       "I'm just pulling your dick, Murray. Don't really do it, man," I said.
       "I wish somebody was pulling my dick," he said, and we all laughed.

Chapter 05

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Rick and I woke up around eleven on Sunday morning. We showered together and did a little playing around.
       "Let's play Kenny and Wayne, without the hitting," Rick said. "I'll be Kenny."
       I laughed.
       "Okay, then I'll be Wayne," I said.
       "I like the new game," he said, when we were dried off and were dressing. "We'll need to play that some more."
       "Any time, Kenny," I said, and we chuckled.
       "It's about damn time y'all got up," Kyle said when we entered the den. "We're dying to know about the new guy."
       "What new guy?" Rick asked.
       "The new guy upstairs. Who do you think I meant?" he demanded in his teasing grumble.
       "Oh, him. He's not staying here," Rick said.
       "Why not?" Kyle asked.
       "Because he's a grown man and has a life," Rick said. "He's married, in fact, although he and his wife aren't together anymore."
       "Oh," Kyle said. "What happened? How'd you guys get involved?"
       I told them the story of Kenny being a Goodson employee and getting beaten up, but I left out the parts about the blowjob and his coming out to us. If he wanted to come out to a houseful of kids, that was his business, not mine.
       "Did he get the guy back?" Justin asked.
       "I don't think so," I said.
       "Is he a wimp?" Justin asked.
       "No, he's not a wimp. He's a computer technician in Tony's department, and he's a nice guy," I said.
       "Is he a nerd?" Kyle asked.
       "I knew you were going to ask that," Rick said. "And, no, he's not a nerd. Just because somebody works with computers doesn't make them a nerd, you know? And so what if he is a nerd?"
       "So nothing. I like nerds," Kyle said. "I like you, don't I?"
       I knew that was coming.
       "You got me last, but that was super cheap," Rick said.
       "I know," Kyle said. "So where is the guy? What's his name?"
       "His name is Kenny Balch, and I probably ought to go check on him," I said.
       "Can I go with you?" Kyle asked.
       "No, you stay here," I said. "He's going to have a black eye, so don't be shocked when you see him."
       I went up to Kenny's room, and I figured he was awake because I could hear the TV set through the door. It wasn't overly loud, but that part of the house was quiet. I tapped gently on the door.
       "Come in," he said.
       "Good morning. How are you doing?" I asked.
       "Morning. My eye hurts, but otherwise I'm okay," he said. "Kevin, I want to thank you for what you and Rick did last night. There aren't many bosses who would do that, and I really appreciate it."
       "Don't mention it," I said.
       "And thanks for talking to me, too. I feel a lot better now that you know who I really am," he said.
       "Are you out to anybody?" I asked.
       "Well, my wife. She caught me masturbating over some gay Internet porn. She said she had suspected it already, and she was pretty cool about it. She asked me to leave our apartment, and she was right about that. We're filing for divorce," he said.
       "Anybody else?" I asked.
       "Just you and Rick," he said. "You said there are some boys living here. Did you tell them?"
       "No. That's for you to do, if you decide to," I said. "They wanted to know if you'd be staying here, and I told them you're married but that you and your wife aren't together. As far as they know, you're as straight as the next guy."
       "Thanks. Oh, and I guess Wayne knows now, too," he said.
       "Yeah. Where are you living?" I asked.
       "I'm back at my parents' house, and it hasn't been easy. I think they suspect something, and I feel like I'm under surveillance all the time," he said. "I ought to be able to find a place soon, now that tourist season is almost over."
       "Well, look, this room is empty. If you want to stay here until you can get settled in an apartment, it's okay with us," I said.
       "I don't want to inconvenience you guys. You've already been nicer to me than I deserve," he said.
       I wasn't sure why he felt he didn't deserve for people to be nice to him, but I hoped it wasn't related to his sexuality. I had a million questions I was dying to ask him. Was Wayne married? How did the whole scene go down? Did Wayne lead him to believe he wanted a blowjob? Was it likely he'd have contact with Wayne at family occasions? Did he think Wayne would harass him? How did his parents feel about homosexuality? His brother? A million questions.
       "It won't be an inconvenience, and the kids will love having a new brother," I said. "And so will Rick and I."
       "I don't know," he said.
       "Well, think about it. Hang out with us today, and then decide. I guess you'll need to go home for clothes and stuff," I said.
       "Yeah, and I'm not looking forward to that with this shiner," he said.
       "They'll want to know how you got it, won't they?" I said.
       "Exactly. Shit, I really did it this time," he said.
       "Of course, if you want to, you can wear some of my clothes for a few days and just not go home. And take two or three sick days until the swelling and bruising go down," I said.
       "That's about the best idea I've heard," he said. "In fact, can I take you up on the clothes right now? I'd like to get a shower and put on something fresh."
       For the first time, I actually looked at what he was wearing. I had noticed the Goodson tee shirt the night before, but he had on khaki shorts that had a large stain to the right of the fly. He saw me looking at him, and he blushed a dark scarlet.
       "Don't ask," he said. He had a shy smile that was pretty cute.
       "I don't think I have to," I said.
       "No, I guess you don't," he said.
       "Go ahead and get in the shower, and I'll leave the clothes here on the bed. There are disposable razors and shave gel in the bathroom, and there are towels in the cabinet under the sink," I said.
       "Okay," he said, and I left to get him some clothes.
       "Rick, can I talk to you for a minute in our room?" I asked, as I passed through the den.
       "Where's the guy?" Kyle asked.
       "He's taking a shower. He'll be down in a few minutes," I said.
       "What's up?" Rick asked, after he had closed the door to our bedroom.
       "I told Kenny he's welcome to stay here a few days until his face gets to looking better," I said. "I hope you don't mind."
       "Of course I don't mind," he said. "Is his face really messed up?"
       "Yeah, it's pretty bad, and he definitely doesn't want his parents to see it. He's not out to anybody but his soon-to-be ex-wife and us. And to Wayne, of course. I told him to take sick days until his face is looking better, too," I said.
       "Well, that's certainly a legitimate use of sick leave," Rick said. "Kyle and Justin are dying to know details, and to meet him."
       "I'm not surprised. I figured they'd be curious as hell. He's not really all that much older than they are," I said.
       "Or younger than we are," Rick said.
       I got a pair of my khaki shorts, a Polo shirt, and some underwear, and took them up. He was still in the shower, and the bathroom door was closed. I gathered up his tee shirt, shorts, and briefs to put in the wash. He had had a hell of an orgasm, at least. I hoped it was before Wayne popped him.
       I got the wash started, poured myself another cup of coffee, and went back to the den. Rick and I had dressed for the day after our shower, but the boys were still in their underwear.
       "Do we need to get dressed?" Tim asked.
       "I don't see why," I said. "He's a guy, just like you, after all."
       "Kevin and Rick, I'm joining Weight Watchers, and the rest are going to join it with me," Murray said.
       "Cool," I said. "I think that's a good move. Whose idea was that?"
       "Brian's," Justin said.
       "We can't actually join, but we're going to take him to the meetings and stay and listen to the talks about nutrition," Brian said.
       "Why can't you join?" Rick asked.
       "Because we're not overweight," Brian said. "You, on the other hand, . . . "
       Rick's body-fat percentage hovered around seven percent, and if he lost weight, it could have severe health consequences. Brian seldom teased Rick and me, and I knew Rick loved his comment just then.
       "Come here, you," Rick said to Brian in his gruff grumble. "Sit here on my knee."
       Brian was grinning from ear to ear, and Rick had to grab him by the arm to get him on his lap.
       "I want to see if you need it," Rick said, and he started tickling Brian's ribs.
       Brian was squirming around on Rick's lap, and he was laughing so hard he was taking breaths in huge gasps. Brian was loving it. Trixie and Krewe would have been at Rick's throat had Rick been a stranger. As it was, they were both wagging their tails hard, nudging Brian with their snouts. Krewe barked a time or two, also.
       "No. No fat on you," Rick said, finally letting Brian slip down to the floor. Brian was out of breath from the experience. "Who's next? Kyle get up on here," Rick said, indicating his lap.
       "Grow up," Kyle said in mock contempt.
       "Oh, you think I should grow up?" Rick asked.
       Rick got out of his chair and went toward Kyle.
       "No!! Justin, help me," Kyle pleaded.
       "I ain't fixing to get involved in that. He'll be on my ass next, if I do," Jus said.
       Rick attacked Kyle. Kyle was as big as Rick, and he could have taken Rick out as easily as Rick could have taken him out. Rick was being affectionate, and Kyle knew it, so he went along. Rick tickled Kyle until Kyle was screaming with laughter, but, just as I knew would happen, Kyle turned on Rick and started tickling him. It was quite a sight to see two grown men on the floor going at each other. They kept it up for a minute or two, and then both of them flopped down on the floor exhausted.
       It was at that moment that Kenny made his appearance from upstairs. He was shy and tentative entering that group of total strangers. Kyle and Rick sat up when he came in, and Kyle simply scooted over to put his back against Tim's legs. Rick stood up and took his former seat.
       "Good morning," Rick said.
       "Hi," Kenny said.
       "Somebody get this man a cup of coffee," Rick said.
       Denny went into the kitchen to get it.
       Rick made the introductions of everyone in the room. Unless Kenny had a photographic memory, he'd never remember all the names on just one pass like that.
       "Damn, dude, you got a shiner for sure there," Justin said. "What'd you do? Run into a Mack truck?"
       "Close," Kenny said.
       "Here. Eat some of this coffeecake. I made it, and it's good," Kyle said. "It'll help you get your strength back."
       Kenny chuckled.
       "It does look good," he said.
       "It is good. Here, put you some butter on it, too. The butter's all soft now. That's the way I like it best," Kyle said. "Soft and creamy."
       "Ain't that impossible? Soft and creamy?" Justin asked. "On second thought, not for you, I reckon."
       "He got you last, Bubba," Rick said.
       "I know. Don't rub it in," Kyle said.
       "Rub what in? The soft or the creamy?" Jus asked.
       "Davis, I am this close to wanting to bust your ass for not helping me with this ox," Kyle said, meaning Rick. "Now you're making fun of me?"
       "If the fu shits, Kyle," Jus said.
       "Yeah? I'll shit in your fu," Kyle said.
       "That would damn sure be soft and creamy," Justin said.
       "Ewww," we all said, more or less on cue, and then we laughed.
       "It's getting a little gross, boys," I said.
       "I know. I surprised myself that time, but I was on a roll," Justin said.
       Kenny was eating, and I thought they were starting to get out of hand. The two of them would say absolutely anything, especially to each other, and I didn't know where that would go next. Kenny was clearly enjoying the banter, though.
       "Kenny, do you work with Tony?" Kyle asked. "He's our brother, you know?"
       "Tony Miller? Yeah, I work with him," Kenny said. "I didn't know he had a connection to you guys, though."
       "Yeah. Chuck Jackson is his boyfriend, and Chuck lived here after his mom was killed and their house burned down," Kyle said.
       "His boyfriend?" Kenny asked.
       "Oh, shit! Did I just fuck up?" Kyle asked.
       "No, you didn't, Kyle. Chuck and Tony are out to everybody," Rick said.
       "Not to him, evidently," Kyle said.
       "Kenny might not have heard, but Tony makes no secret about being gay at work," I said. "You didn't say anything you shouldn't have said."
       "That's a relief. Yeah, Kenny, Chuck is Tony's boyfriend. And Tim is my boyfriend," Kyle said.
       "And Brian is my boyfriend," Justin said.
       "And Brady is my boyfriend," Denny said.
       "Still?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. For now," Denny said.
       "And I don't have a boyfriend," Murray said. "But you stand back when I lose my weight."
       "I don't have a boyfriend, either," Kenny said.
       The boys all laughed because they thought he was joking about even wanting a boyfriend. Rick and I just looked at each other.
       "Kenny, it's okay to smoke in here, if you want to," I said, trying to change the subject.
       "I noticed the ashtrays, and I was wondering," Kenny said.
       "Yeah, this is not a healthy, smoke-free environment," Kyle said. "Is it, Justin?"
       "Fuck you, Kyle," Justin said.
       Justin and I usually went outside to smoke out of deference to the non-smokers, but Jus lit up when Kenny did that morning. He blew the smoke in Kyle's direction, just as I knew he would.
       "Gimme one," Kyle said.
       "No. Buy your own," Justin said.
       "Here, have one of mine," Kenny said.
       "No, thanks," Kyle said. "I want one of his."
       "It's the same brand," Kenny said. He was getting sucked in to something he had no idea about.
       "If I have to take those cigarettes away from you, Justin, it's going to hurt," Kyle said.
       "Hurt who? Me or you?"
       "Now, that I don't know yet," Kyle said.
       Justin laughed.
       "You don't really want to smoke a cigarette, do you?" Justin said.
       "No, I don't, but I want one to put behind my ear," Kyle said.
       We all laughed at that.
       "Oh, in that case, here," Justin said, and he gave Kyle a cigarette. Kyle tucked it behind his ear.
       "Thank you," Kyle said. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"
       "Don't start with the hard stuff," Justin said.
       We were saved from a round of puns by the arrival of the townhouse boys. That's what we called them. The Townhouse Boys.
       They came in the back door, and they made quite an entrance. We hugged everybody like we always did when they came over or we went over to their house. I watched Tony's face when he laid eyes on Kenny.
       "Hey. What's up?" Tony said to Kenny. Tony extended his hand, and they shook.
       Tony had "What the hell are you doing here" written in 36-point type across is face.
       "Not much. What's up with you?" Kenny said.
       "What happened, man?" Tony asked about his eye.
       "It's a long story," Kenny said.
       "I'll bet," Tony said.
       "Anybody want to ski?" Kyle asked.
       "That's why we came over," Tyler said.
       "Okay, but first I want to take some pictures. And I want y'all to see this. Brian, can you get 'em to do the trick again?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I think so. Get your camera," Brian said. "Everybody sit down, please."
       Rick and I sat down next to each other on a sofa.
       "What's going on?" Rick asked.
       "It beats me. Brian must have taught the dogs a trick that Kyle wants to photograph. I don't know," I said.
       Kyle got out his super-fancy digital camera and got into place. In a second he told Brian he was ready. Then, to everybody's surprise, the dogs came out of the kitchen carrying a basket in their mouths. It was like they were serving tea or something. It was amazing. They kept it steady, and they placed it on the coffee table in front of Rick and me. The tray had two cups and saucers, spoons, and a little bunch of artificial flowers that were ordinarily on the window sill in the kitchen. We applauded when they came out.
       Kyle was all over the place, and I had never seen him move that fast with a camera in his hands. He was on his back on the floor, on his knees, on his feet, on his butt. I had no idea how many pictures he took, but it was an awesome display.
       The dogs knew they were on show, and they both had happy looks on their faces once they set the tray down. Okay, maybe I'm projecting more onto them than they were capable of, but they sure looked happy to me.
       When Brian came out of the kitchen, we gave him a standing ovation. He had a grin on his face that must have hurt, it was so wide. Kyle hadn't stopped snapping pictures, either. He got a bunch of Brian, but he also got the rest of us. I knew those were going to be good.
       "I'm going to skip the skiing," Jeff said.
       "You want to get right on those pictures, don't you?" Tyler said.
       The two of them were grinning at each other, and there was real love going back and forth.
       "Yeah," Jeff said. "I've got a Web site to maintain, Babe."
       "I know, plus you ski for shit, anyway," Tyler said.
       Jeff laughed.
       "You noticed that, did you?" Jeff said.
       Tyler kissed Jeff briefly on the lips, and they were a cute couple. It was obvious they were very happy together, and that made me happy.
       Kyle called the Spencer-Kenners, and they wanted to ski, too. Denny and Murray didn't want to ski, which was no surprise. Denny had a book he was reading, and he curled up in one of the lounge chairs on the patio. Brian, Tim, and Murray played with one of Brian's model airplanes, but Brian and Tim took their turns skiing, too.
       The dogs took turns riding on the boat. Trixie didn't go in after somebody a single time, and Krewe only did it once. Brian was in the boat when Krewe went in, and he said something to her when she did it. Rick and I were on the dock with Jimmy and Dave when that happened. Brian didn't touch her, but it was pretty obvious he chewed her out. The next time somebody went down, Krewe was poised to go after him. Brian said something to her, and she sat down.
       "Brian's amazing with those dogs," Jimmy said.
       "Yeah, he is," Rick said. "He made over $20,000.00 this summer training dogs."
       "Shit. You're kidding, right?" Jimmy said.
       "No, I'm not," Rick said.
       "Damn, that's a real gift," Jimmy said.
       "Yeah, it is. But you know what? He wants to be a human doctor and not a vet," Rick said.
       "He wants to be a doctor?" Dave said.
       "Yeah, and he will be one," I said. "Count on that. And Tim, too."
       "Any potential lawyers or CPA's in the crowd?" Jimmy asked.
       "Not among the Big Four," I said. "That's Kyle, Tim, Justin, and Brian. Kyle's going to run his family's business, and Justin is going to be his right-hand man. The other two are going to be the doctors."
       "They're some amazing boys," Jimmy said.
       "Jimmy, you don't even know the half of it," I said.

(Kenny's Perspective)
       I felt so incredibly humiliated when I looked up and saw Kevin Foley and Rick Mashburn in that policeman's office Saturday night that I could have died. In fact, that night I thought death would have been a blessing to me.
       Cindy and I were doomed from the start. I knew I should never have asked her to marry me, but it was what everybody expected me to do. I mean, we had dated for three years, and all of "my" friends were really "our" friends by that point. My parents and her parents considered us a couple, and marriage was the next step. I mean, I knew I was gay, but there was enormous pressure on me to do something with her.
       I liked Cindy very much. She was pretty conservative when it came to sex, and that was fine with me. She jerked me off a few times before we were married when we were in the real heat of passion, but that was it. I tried to finger her, but she always had some excuse why I couldn't pleasure her. I really don't think she ever got off, the whole time we were together.
       Once we got married, all the reasons not to do stuff were gone. We had actual intercourse a few times, but she wasn't real keen on it, and I wasn't, either.
       A lot of people think gay men can't have sexual intercourse with a woman, but we can. At least I could. It wasn't very satisfying on an emotional level, but I could get hard and get it in her. She was pretty dry the first couple of times, and I suggested we use KY Jelly. That made it easier, but I didn't think there was any pleasure for her. It took me a long time to come, and I'm pretty sure she never did come.
       She was on the pill, so there wasn't much chance she would conceive. We had talked about wanting kids eventually, and I thank God we waited for that.
       Every time I made love to Cindy, I thought about Wayne Stafford. He was my younger brother's best friend, and I had been in love with him for years.
       Wayne was a cowboy. Not really, but that was his persona. He lived with just his dad, and they had a 40-acre spread north of Emerald Beach. They had a few head of cattle, some goats, chickens, and four horses. My brother and I loved to go up there, and my brother spent many nights with Wayne.
       My brother went off to college, and Wayne started calling me to see if I wanted to go out with him.
       "Why do you want to go out with him?" Cindy asked, more than once.
       "Because I like him. He's my brother's best friend, and he's lonely," I said.
       "Well, have fun," Cindy said, sarcastically.
       And Wayne and I did have fun. We'd go out to a bar or club on the beach, and we'd get drunk. More than once we spent the night in his pick-up because we were too drunk to drive home. He had an extended cab truck, so there was plenty of room for both of us. Wayne never picked up girls. I figured he was like me. Gay.
       After Cindy caught me in mid-jerk to some gay porn on the Web, she wanted me gone.
       "You're gay, aren't you?" she asked.
       "Yeah, I guess so," I said.
       That was it for her. For me, too, though. I didn't really want to be in that marriage, but having been married would be good cover for me. I could just tell people I was divorced if they asked me about a girlfriend or something. I had an alibi, at least for awhile.
       But there was always Wayne. I loved him so much. And I just knew he was gay and loved me, too. But I couldn't raise the question with him.
       Then one night he called me on my cell.
       "Hey, what are you doing?" he asked.
       "Nothing. What are you doing?" I asked.
       "I'm drinking beer and thinking about you," he said.
       "Where are you?"
       "I'm at the Big Chief Truck Stop on Highway 231. Do you know where that is?"
       "Yeah, I know where that is," I said.
       Cindy and I had split up by that time, and I was living with my parents again. I got in my car and headed out to see him. I took my wallet out of my shorts and left it home so some ruffian at that truck stop couldn't steal it. I didn't even think about buying drinks and that sort of thing. I was going to see Wayne, and I didn't think about needing money.
       When I got there, Wayne was about half loaded. He was happy to see me, and he bought me a beer. I don't know that I even touched it, though. We were talking about girls and sex, and about how horny we both were. It was typical conversation for young males who don't have dates on Saturday night.
       "Ken, I need to ask you something," he said. "Would you ever suck a cock?"
       At first I was taken aback by his question. But that was exactly what I wanted to do.
       "It depends," I said.
       "Will you suck mine? All this talk about sex has really horned me up, and I need it bad, man," he said.
       "Wayne, I've wanted to suck your cock for a long time," I said. I realized I was coming out to him, but I loved him.
       "I figured that," he said. "Let's go outside."
       We went outside, and I got on my knees in front of him. He whipped out his hard dick, and I went to town on it. I had never done that before, but I felt as though I knew instinctively what to do. He came in my mouth, and I came in my shorts seconds later.
       Immediately after that, Wayne hit me.
       "You fucking cocksucker," he said. "Get the fuck away from me."
       He hit me very hard. I didn't think he had broken any bones, but I really didn't know.
       I started crying because the boy I loved had called me that name and had said to get away from him. I was in pain, but that's not what made me cry. It was the rejection, the contempt in his voice when he said that.
       "Wayne, why did you do that? I love you. Don't you love me, too?" I asked. "Didn't you like it?" I'm sure I sounded desperate.
       "Shut the fuck up, Kenny. Yeah, I liked it. I liked it too goddamn much. I ain't a faggot like you, and I won't be one, either," he said. "You disgust me, and I disgust myself for letting you do that to me."
       He kicked me in my thigh. Wayne always wore jeans and cowboy boots, never shorts.
       "Hey, what's going on?" a guy yelled from his truck.
       He had a cell phone in his hand, and I figured he was calling the police.
       "Shit, that bastard saw the whole goddamn thing. At least you didn't kiss me. I'm out of here," he said.
       There were always lots of cops on Highway 231, and one of them got there in time to block Wayne's leaving. He made him get out of his truck, and the two walked over to me.
       "What's going on?" the cop asked.
       By then the man who had made the call was walking over to us.
       "I seen the whole thing, officer. This boy here gave that one a blowjob, and then that one walloped the shit out of this one," he said.
       The officer called for backup, and a second cruiser was there in seconds.
       "We're going to the station to sort this out," the cop said.
       "Am I under arrest?" Wayne asked. "'Cause if I am, I need to call my daddy."
       "You're not under arrest yet. We're going in for a little chat," the cop said.
       One took me in his car, and the other one took Wayne. We didn't see each other again after we left that parking lot. I was still crying, and, all of a sudden, it was like my mind shut down. It was like I was dead or something. I couldn't even think.
       In the office at the station, the policeman tried to get me to talk. I couldn't, though. I heard what he said, but I didn't process any of it. He was getting frustrated with me, I know, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. Then I heard him making a phone call, and about a half hour later Kevin and Rick showed up.
       * * *
       Sunday morning Kevin came to wake me up. My shorts and underwear were caked with my dried cum from the night before, and Kevin noticed. That embarrassed me to death, but Kevin was cool about it. He went downstairs to get me some of his clothes. I undressed and dropped my dirty clothes on the floor, thinking I'd take care of them later. When I finished showering and shaving, I went out into the room. The fresh clothes were there, and my dirty ones were gone. He must have taken them to wash them, and that brought back the embarrassment of a little while before.
       There were six boys in the den with Kevin and Rick. The older guys were dressed, but the boys were all in underwear. Four of them had on bikini briefs, and, even though they weren't hard, I could clearly see the outline of their equipment. All four of them were very good looking, especially the one who was in charge of the dogs. Despite everything that had happened to me, I started getting aroused when I saw those guys.
       They all introduced themselves, and one of them got me some coffee. I sat down right away, and I hoped and prayed none of them had noticed my condition.
       They talked about Tony Miller, my boss. It turned out Tony had a boyfriend that he lived with and that the boyfriend had once lived there. I was a "network consultant," and, to tell you the truth, I didn't have all that much contact with Tony. My manager was a guy named Lee, and he's the one who supervised my work. Plus, I was out in the hotels and stores most of the time, fixing problems. They said Tony was fully out at work, but I sure didn't know that.
       It turned out, every one of those guys was gay, and all but one of them had boyfriends. I was totally stunned. One of them said his last name was Goodson, and I noted the coincidence. He was probably the second best-looking one of them, and he seemed like he was in his early twenties. He had what to me was a beautiful growth of hair on his chest. It wasn't real thick or gross or anything, but it was very sexy. And his physique was very well developed. Not as well developed as a sandy-haired boy, but it was nice.
       "Guys, Ken's going to be staying with us for a few days until his face heals up," Kevin said.
       "Great," the Goodson guy said. "You're going to like it here, dude. This is a good place to be."
       "Thanks, I need a sanctuary right now," I said.
       "You mean like the church?" sandy-hair said.
       "Buddy, a church is a sanctuary, and back in the old days people in trouble used to go to churches to hide because the bad guys knew not to go in there after them," the pretty one said. "They called doing that seeking sanctuary."
       "Well, the stuff that goes on in this house don't go on in a church," sandy-hair said.
       Everybody laughed but me. Later, when I thought about it, I saw how funny that was.
       * * *
       We all went outside to water ski. Kevin loaned me a pair of swimming trunks to wear. I had skied all my life, and I was pretty good. They were good, too, though, so I didn't do any showing off.
       "If you guys want a beer or a soft drink, there are plenty of both in the clubhouse," Rick said.
       "Come on, Ken. Let's go get a beer," Tony said.
       I got up reluctantly and went with him. I figured it was just a matter of time before he would want to talk to me.
       "I was surprised to see you here this morning," Tony said.
       "Yeah, well, Kevin and Rick kind of bailed me out last night," I said.
       "Were you arrested?" he asked.
       "No, I wasn't arrested. A guy beat me up a little," I said.
       "Were you in a bar fight?" Tony asked.
       His tone of voice was very compassionate, like he considered me a friend or something. That sort of surprised me since I really didn't know him all that well. He hadn't worked for Goodson very long.
       "It was at a bar. A truck stop, really, but it was in the parking lot, just him and me," I said.
       "Did he rob you?" he asked.
       "No," I said. "I had left my wallet at home."
       "Well, at least that much is good," he said. "You're going to take a few days off, right? You don't want to have to tell this story to everybody you come in contact with."
       "Yeah, I am," I said. "One of these days I might be able to tell you exactly what happened, but not now, okay?"
       "You don't owe me an explanation, Ken. You and I are both here as guests of Kevin and Rick. I'm not your boss here, and if I hadn't come over, I probably never would have known about it. I'm familiar with your work through Lee, and I know you do a good job for us. That's the only boss-employee thing I know about you. Here, we're just friends, okay, buddy?" he said.
       "I'm glad you feel that way. The last thing I need right now is to lose my job," I said.
       "Lose your job? You're kidding, right?" he said.
       "Yeah," I said, but I really wasn't.
       "Let's each take a fistful of beers out to the others. I'm sure they're all thirsty," he said.
       "I'll catch up with you in a second," I said.
       "Okay. Look around if you want to. They've got some great facilities here," he said.
       "Okay," I replied.
       I breathed a deep sigh of relief when he walked out of that building. The night before had been the worst time of my life, but everybody at that house was treating me so kind that I was almost glad it had happened. Almost.
       I thought about Wayne, and I wondered what he was doing. Then I thought about touching his penis and putting it to my lips and into my mouth. I had seen it soft many times when we went skinny dipping in the lake near his house, but that had been the first time I had seen it hard. Those thoughts made my own penis swell.
       Get over him, I thought. He doesn't want you, and he never will. He thinks he's straight, and you're not going to do anything to convince him otherwise. Go out there with your new friends and have a good time.
       While I was standing there thinking, the Goodson boy came in.
       "Hey. I came to get some beers," he said.
       "Would you tell me your name again?" I asked.
       "It's Kyle. Kyle Goodson," he said.
       He had a small tattoo of a monkey an inch or so above his Speedo. I hadn't noticed it that morning when he was in his underwear.
       "I knew your last name was Goodson. Like the building," I said.
       "Yeah," he said, and he smiled.
       "They say if you put a beefsteak on your eye, it'll take the swelling out. You want to try it?" he asked.
       "I've heard that, too, but I bet it's an old wives tale," I said.
       "Could be, but this would be a good time to test it out. I'll get you one," he said.
       There was a freezer in the kitchen, and he started digging around in it. He pulled out a filet, ran some hot water in the sink, and put it in. The meat was wrapped in butcher paper.
       "This will just take a minute to thaw," he said. "If it doesn't work, we'll cook it, and you can eat it."
       I laughed a little. He was so at ease, so comfortable with who and what he was. And so attractive.
       "Those dogs were something else with that basket, weren't they?" he said.
       "Yeah, I'd never seen anything like that before," I said.
       "I know. Brian is constantly coming up with stuff for them to do. We used to have trouble with them going in after skiers who fell or just finished their run and sank down into the water. He broke them of that, though. Everybody says he ought to be a vet, but that's not what he wants to be. He wants to be a human doctor," he said.
       He was going out of his way to make conversation, and I appreciated that.
       "I think this steak's about ready to use," he said. "It's still a little frozen, but that might help, too. I don't know if you just put it on straight or you do something to it first."
       "Let me just put it on and see," I said.
       The steak was pliable, but it was still icy. It felt pretty good when I held it up to my face, but it was the coldness that felt good, not the meat.
       "Why don't you stay in here and keep that thing on it for a while," Kyle said. "There's TV, stereo, VCR, DVD, you name it. There's even a computer if you want to check email or something."
       "Thanks," I said.
       "You call me if you need anything, you hear? We're going to get you better fast, Bubba," he said.
       "I heard several people use the name Bubba for each other. Why is that?" I asked.
       "'Bubba' means 'brother,' that's why," he said. "If you're here, you're our brother, and that's all there is to it."
       "Thanks, Kyle," I said.
       "No problem, er . . . is it Kenny or Ken? Which one do you like?"
       "Either one, but Ken is what I prefer now," I said.
       "Okay, Ken. See you later," he said.
       He gathered up as many beers as he could hold and went back outside with the others.

Chapter 06

(Ken's Perspective, Continued)
       That house was a boy's paradise. When Kyle left the clubhouse to go back out, I did a little exploring. There was a pool table, a ping pong table, and two octagonal game tables in the main room. There was an area for darts, too. There were two enormous leather sofas that I was sure opened out into beds, and four leather club chairs, as well. There was other seating around, too. A fireplace dominated one of the long walls, and a massive entertainment center dominated the other wall. The furniture was arranged so they could take advantage of both at the same time.
       At one end of the building were locker rooms like you'd find in a gym. There was one for men and one for women, too. There was a shower room in the men's section that had a four-man gang shower. There were urinals and toilets in the bathroom part, but it was really kind of all one big room. I didn't go in the ladies' side.
       At the other end of the building was a kitchen. It had a commercial stove with six burners, two ovens, and a griddle. There was even a commercial ice machine. There was a counter that opened into the main part of the room that had a pull-down door so the kitchen could be closed off. The refrigerator was loaded with beer, soft drinks, and three or four bottles of white wine. There was a standing freezer next to that, and it was loaded, too.
       Next to the kitchen was a full weight room. It wasn't as big as health-club facilities, but it looked like it was pretty well equipped. When I thought about the muscles on some of those guys, I knew that room got good use.
       After I poked around, I went back into the living area and lay down on one of the sofas. I kept the meat on my eye, and I drifted off to sleep.
       I seldom dream at night, but I always dream when I take a nap. That day I dreamed of Wayne and what he had done to me. I relived in my dream everything that had happened, and it actually seemed more vivid in the dream than it had in real life. In the dream, though, Wayne pulled me up after he hit me and kissed me passionately. His tongue attacked my mouth, and he made me come a second time.
       "Whoa," somebody said.
       The dream was over, and I slowly opened my eyes. There was something heavy obstructing my left eye, and I pulled it away. It was the steak. When I could finally see, I was greeted by Kyle and the sandy-haired boy looking down at me. They were both wearing Speedos that looked more like posing briefs than bathing suits, and they were both at least partially aroused.
       "Wait. Don't move," Kyle said. "Let me get something to clean you up."
       I looked down at the wetness I felt on my stomach and chest, and it was a load of cum. My dick was still hard, and it was poking above the waistband of my bathing trunks.
       My God! I thought. I had had a wet dream. I'm sure my entire body turned red, and I was totally mortified.
       "Don't blush, dude. It ain't nothing," sandy-hair said.
       "I feel like a total fool and complete idiot," I said.
       "Why? You didn't even touch it. We watched you. You were dead asleep," he said.
       "Tell me your name again, please," I said.
       "It's Justin. Justin Davis," he said.
       "Justin, I'm so sorry," I said.
       "For what?! There ain't no shame in a wet dream, man. I don't get 'em, but Brian gets 'em all the time. He swears he dreams about me when he has those things, and that's good enough for me," he said, smiling cutely.
       "Here. Clean yourself up. Don't get it on the sofa, hear?" Kyle said. He handed me several paper towels.
       "It wouldn't be the first time," Justin said, and he and Kyle laughed.
       "Or the last," Kyle said, and they laughed some more.
       I cleaned myself up. Justin lit a cigarette, and he gave me one.
       "Guys, I don't know what to say," I said.
       "There's nothing to say. We came in here to get some beers, and we noticed you. You were kind of mumbling in your sleep, and we saw your hard-on sticking out of the top of your suit. We're the ones who should be apologizing for watching," Kyle said.
       "She must have been mighty hot," Justin said.
       I didn't respond for a second. It was pretty obvious to me that those guys were going to accept me no matter what I was, and if I was ever going to have a life as a gay man, that was a good time to get started.
       "He," I said.
       They both raised their eyebrows high and looked at each other, smiling.
       "Does that mean . . . " Kyle started to say.
       "That I'm gay? Yeah, that's what it means," I said.
       "Dude, all right!" Kyle said. He was pretty enthusiastic.
       "Welcome to the club, Bubba," Justin said. He was using what we called the Emerald Beach Grumble, and he was cute.
       "Do you have a boyfriend?" Kyle asked.
       "No," I said, and I'm sure they detected the sadness in my voice.
       "That guy that hit you was your boyfriend, wasn't he?" Kyle said.
       "Let's put it this way. I wanted him to be my boyfriend," I said.
       "Oh," Justin said.
       "Where are you from?" Kyle asked.
       "Here. I've lived here all my life," I said. "I was born here."
       "Me, too. Where did you go to high school?" Kyle asked.
       "Rutledge," I said. "I'm from the east side of town. You're a Beach Rat, aren't you?"
       "Yes, sir, and proud of it," Kyle said. "Did you go to college?"
       "Yeah. I went to Emerald Coast and then the FSU campus here," I said. "I majored in sociology."
       "What is that?" Justin asked.
       "The study of society, social behavior," I said.
       "And now you do computers?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, well, there isn't much work for sociologists in Emerald Beach," I said. "I took some computer courses in college, but mostly I've gotten my certifications after college."
       "And you're married, or were married, or something?” Kyle said.
       "Yeah, legally and technically I still am married, but the divorce will be final in a couple of weeks," I said. "Guys, I've been gay all my life, and I've known that. I just didn't want to accept that about me. I mean, actually, I was fine with accepting it about me, but I couldn't let anybody else know."
       "We understand," Justin said. "We've talked about that."
       "Is it okay if we tell Tim and Brian about you?" Kyle asked.
       I thought for a few moments. What the fuck? I concluded.
       "Yeah, that would be okay," I said. "Let's keep it in the group here, though, okay? I know Kevin, Rick, and Tony are out at work, but they're bosses. I'm not. I don't want to get hassled about it."
       "We work for Goodson, too," Justin said. "We're all out, and we don't get picked on, do we, Kyle. That's a very liberal company. We know the owner."
       All of a sudden, I realized that what I thought was a coincidence about Kyle's last name maybe wasn't just a coincidence.
       "Kyle, are you related to the Goodson who owns the company?" I asked.
       "Yeah," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, cut the shit, asshole. His daddy owns it, and someday he's going to own it and run it, too," Justin said. "And I'm going to be right there with him, holding his dick so he can hit the urinal."
       They were both sitting on the floor in front of me, and Kyle slammed his body into Justin's, and they both laughed.
       "We'll see. We might want to sell all this shit here and buy us that place in Boston we stayed in last summer," he said. "Either way, you're going to be there, but you ain't touching my dick."
       "How many times have I touched your dick, Kyle? A million? How many times have you touched mine? A million?" Justin asked.
       "About that many," Kyle said, very deadpan.
       "Have you guys been, like . . . "
       "Naw. We ain't been lovers. We just touch each other playing around, is all," Kyle said. "Like in the pool, and what not. He and I flirt like hell, but we're both taken solid. And that's the way we both want it."
       "That sounds pretty good to me," I said. "How old are you guys, anyway? I can't really tell."
       "I'm nineteen and he's a mere eighteen," Justin said.
       "Yeah, nineteen going on twelve," Kyle said.
       Yeah? You're eighteen going on seven, Bubba," Justin said.
       "Does anybody know what time it is?" Kyle asked.
       There was a clock on the mantle, and it said it was almost four.
       "It's almost four o'clock," I said.
       "Shit, I need to go. We're going to Mass tonight," Kyle said. "We'll come home and cook that steak for you."
       "God, Kyle, that's about the grossest thing I ever heard," Justin said.
       "No, it ain't. You've heard a lot grosser stuff from me than that," he said.
       "True," Justin said.
       "Seriously, Ken. I need to square the boat away, get cleaned up, and go to church. We're going to cook after Mass, though. And give that steak to the dogs, okay? Cut it in half first, and give each one of them part of it, okay?" Kyle said.
       "Okay," I said, and off they went.
       * * *
       I debated a while with myself about going to Mass with them. On the one hand, those guys had been so incredibly nice to me, I wanted to be with them. On the second hand, I was pretty self-conscious about being seen in public looking like I did. The beefsteak therapy had helped reduce the swelling, but it was still ugly. On another hand, I wasn't Catholic. On another second hand, I had never been to a Catholic service, and I was curious about what it was like. In the final analysis, I decided to go.
       "If I go to church with y'all, I'll need some better clothes, won't I?" I asked.
       "No, you're fine," Kevin said. "I'm going like I am."
       He was in shorts and a Polo shirt that wasn't tucked in. He had on deck shoes with no socks.
       "Really?" I asked.
       "Yeah. It's the Lord's Supper. It's not a fashion show," he said. "We do encourage shoes, but I've seen 'em there without 'em."
       What a difference from the church I was raised in! In mean, every man in my church had on a business suit. Some of the younger guys were brazen and came in just a dress shirt and tie, but no family men dared do that. I guess the Presbyterians were different in that regard.
       The Mass was pretty interesting, but they had some ceremonies I hadn't ever seen before. There were two preachers, instead of one, but only one gave the sermon. And it was short. Maybe five minutes. I liked that part.
       "Both of those guys up there are gay," Kyle whispered to me.
       "Are they boyfriends?" I whispered back.
       "No. They're celibate. No sex at all, except maybe jerking off solo. I'm not sure about that, but they're not boyfriends," Kyle whispered.
       "Cool. They sound like me," I whispered back to him.
       Kyle and I both started laughing, but we didn't make any noise doing it.
       "What are you laughing at?" Justin whispered, but in a louder whisper than Kyle and I had used. He was three people down.
       "Shut up. We'll tell you later," Kyle whispered back. The whispering was starting to get pretty loud because Justin was so far from us.
       Rick cleared his throat, but it wasn't a real throat-clearing. It was to make us shut up, and we did.
       After church, the two preachers came home with us. They both seemed to be in their late twenties or early thirties, and they seemed like really good guys. One was named Jerry, and one was named Vince. Neither one commented about my eye, which was a lot less swollen than it had been. Maybe that steak had worked.
       The first order of business was eating, and Kyle seemed to be in charge of that. The so-called Townhouse Boys had gone to church with us and were still there, and that was quite a crowd. There were, like, fifteen people there. They served great steaks, corn on the cob, some kind of vegetable casserole with lots of breadcrumbs in it, and with lots of shrimp, too. They had a green salad, rolls, the works. We ate out on the patio by the pool.
       "Don't feed the dogs from your plates, please," Brian said a couple of times.
       I noticed Justin and Kyle both ignoring Brian and handing the dogs chunks of meat.
       "Brian, you are too strict with the dogs," Kyle said.
       "I'm trying to teach them not to beg, Kyle. Those dogs should be over there lying down, not under us while we eat," Brian said.
       "I'm all over that, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but you and Justin have been feeding them, haven't you?"
       "Brian, I just heard the phone ring, and it's for you, Bubba," Kyle said.
       Brian laughed, and the others did, too.
       "Please, guys," Brian said. "I know you're doing it to tease me, but please stop."
       How they could resist him was totally beyond me. I think he was the best-looking boy I had ever seen, and it was pretty clear he was one of the favorites around there.
       "We'll stop, Little Buddy," Justin said, and they apparently did.
       Brian got up and opened one of the French doors into the house.
       "Girls, go to bed," he said, and the dogs went inside.
       "Brian, what the hell are you doing, man? Ain't you going to let them play with us in the pool later?" Kyle demanded.
       "Of course I am, Kyle, but you and Justin keep breaking the rules. We don't want them to get fat, and they will if y'all keep feeding them like that. They already had their dinner," he said. He was adamant.
       "I'm sorry, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Me, too," Justin said.
       "If I'm the dog man, y'all need to do what I say about feeding them," Brian said.
       "Well, you're damn sure the dog man," Kyle said.
       "Please do what Brian says about the dogs, guys. He knows," Kevin said.
       "If everybody's finished, we can clear this shit away," Kyle said. "Then we can get in the pool."
       "Kyle, let's have the grace after meals, okay?" Kevin said.
       "I never heard of that before," Kyle said. "Grace after meals?"
       "Most Catholics don't say it, Kyle, but since we have two priests here tonight, let's do it," Kevin said.
       "That's fine with me," Kyle said.
       "Vince, would you say it, please?" Kevin asked.
       "Sure.
       "We give you thanks, Almighty God, for all your benefits, Who lives and reigns, world without end. Amen.
       "May the souls of the faithful departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen."
       "Damn, I didn't even know there was such a thing as a grace after meals," Rick said.
       "That's because you didn't go to Catholic schools," Kevin said. "We said it every day, but I couldn't remember the words."
       "It's a very nice blessing," Rick said. "I thought about my grandpa when he said that last part."
       "That's the point of that, Babe. You remember deceased family every time you eat," Kevin said.
       "For somebody who's not very religious, you know a lot," Rick said.
       "Yeah, I'll admit it. I do," Kevin said. "I had it all drummed into me in school."
       "What else did you have drummed into you at that all-boys school you went to?" Justin asked.
       They all laughed.
       "Not that, damn it," Kevin said, and they all laughed again.
       We had all been in bathing suits for skiing, but we had obviously changed for church. I figured we'd put our suits back on, but I was wrong. It was going to be a skinny dipping occasion.
       "Ken, if you feel uncomfortable swimming nude, it's okay to wear a suit," Kevin said.
       "I don't mind," I said.
       I had read that every guy likes to check out other naked guys, and I was no exception. Seeing that bunch get nude was a veritable feast for the eyes for this newly-out queer. When I saw Brian I knew how unfair nature really was. Not only was he stunningly good looking, but he had the largest penis in the pool, as well. Kyle and Justin were well endowed, too, and everybody else, including me, looked fairly average in size.
       "Does anyone ever get an erection?" I asked Justin.
       "Oh, yeah. All the time. We just ignore 'em, though. It'll go down if you leave it alone," he said.
       In fact, I noticed that Murray was about half hard at that moment. Justin was right. Nobody commented on it, and Murray didn't look a bit embarrassed. Denny was chasing him, and, when he finally caught him, he threw Murray in the pool.
       Rick had Kevin get on his shoulders.
       "Kyle, get up on Justin," Rick said.
       Kyle did as he was told, and the two pairs of fighters went at each other. Those were four very strong men, and they fought hard. Kevin finally succeeded in pulling Kyle off Justin's shoulders, and all four were winded. Kyle wanted to make it the best two out of three, but Kevin and Rick said they needed to catch their breaths.
       The four guys from the townhouse got out and started playing basketball. They were playing two-on-two. It was fun watching their penises flap up and down. In a little while, people started drifting away. Jerry and Vince told everybody good night, and they left. The Townhouse Boys didn't stay very long, either. By nine o'clock, everyone was gone except the residents of the house.
       Tim dispensed towels for us to dry ourselves with.
       "Who wants to shoot some pool?" Kyle asked.
       "I will, but I want the family to talk about something first," Justin said. "I had planned to bring this up this morning, but I really couldn't."
       "What do you want to talk about?" Kyle asked.
       "Wait till we're all inside," Justin said.
       Once we were inside, Rick asked if anyone wanted a nightcap. I had only had a couple of beers that afternoon and a drink before dinner, so I said I'd like one. Kevin, Justin, and Kyle said they'd have one, too. Tim got soft drinks for Brian, Denny, Murray, and himself, and Rick had a Diet Coke.
       "So, what do you want to talk about?" Kyle asked.
       "It's not really about me. It's about Murray," Justin said.
       Everybody looked at Murray. Murray wasn't ugly, but he didn't hold a candle to the other ones. His nose was rather large, as were his lips, and he was fat, at least by the standard of the other boys. He was very effeminate, too. He was the kind of kid other kids picked on instinctively, I thought.
       "What about Murray?" Rick asked.
       "Tell 'em what you told me last night, Murray," Justin said.
       "God, this is embarrassing," Murray said.
       "Son, come over here and sit with me," Rick said.
       He and Kevin were side by side on one of the sofas (the sofa of my afternoon eruption, in fact), and he pushed down so Murray could get between them. Rick put his arm around Murray.
       "Son, one of the things we cherish in this family is that nobody is ever embarrassed with us," Rick said. "You haven't been here very long, but you're definitely fitting in well. Please don't be embarrassed by what you've done."
       "It's not something I've done," Murray said.
       "What is it, then?" Kevin asked.
       "It's what somebody is doing to me at school," he said. He looked like he was scared and close to tears.
       "Is somebody picking on you?" Kyle demanded. He seemed a bit angry.
       "Yeah, and I got the fucker's name," Justin said. He seemed angry, too.
       "Do your brothers need to step into action, Murray?" Kyle asked.
       "Kyle, this morning you told me to grow up. I know you were just teasing, but I'm going to say the same thing to you right now. Grow up," Rick said.
       "Rick, please don't pick on Kyle," Tim said.
       Oh, I saw this developing into a family argument.
       "I'm not picking on Kyle," Rick said, adamantly. "In fact, I told Kevin last night that I think Kyle is becoming more diplomatic. I shouldn't have used that expression just now, and I'm sorry."
       "Kyle, what did you mean by 'step into action'?" Kevin asked.
       "Last year some guys were picking on Chip and Denny. I talked to them and asked them to report to me if they saw people picking on other people. I made them believe I had a whole network of guys who were reporting to me and that I would get physical with those guys if I found out about them. It stopped after that, didn't it, Denny?" Kyle said.
       "I didn't know you had done that, but it definitely stopped," Denny said. "They were picking on us a lot, too."
       "See, that's the kind of thing I meant by stepping into action, Rick," Kyle said. "You and Kevin think all I know how to do is use my fists, and that ain't true, Bubba."
       "Kyle, I really am sorry I said for you to grow up," Rick said. "Did I hurt your feelings?"
       "No, you didn't hurt my feelings, but you pissed me off," Kyle said. "What are they doing to you, Murray?"
       "It's just one kid, Kyle. Marshall Davis," Murray said.
       Kyle immediately looked at Justin.
       "Don't look at me like that, Kyle. I don't know him. I don't know everybody named Davis in the whole fucking world, you know," Justin said.
       "Oh, no? I thought you did," Kyle said.
       "I know one Davis. Me," Justin said. "Oh, and that other guy. What's his name? Washington Davis?"
       "Jefferson Davis," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, that's it. Me and him. That's the only two Davises I know. And ole Jefferson's dead, right?" Justin asked.
       "You've been to his tomb. He better be dead," Kyle said.
       We all laughed. I thought this whole thing was hilarious. Not the part about Murray getting picked on, but the way they were discussing it.
       "Back to the matter at hand. Marshall Davis is picking on Murray. What is he doing to you, Murray?" Rick asked.
       "Calling me names. Shoving me. Knocking my books out of my arms. Trying to trip me. That kind of stuff. A couple of times he said he was going to whip my faggot ass," Murray said.
       "This is going to be an easy fix," Kyle said.
       "What are you going to do?" Rick asked.
       "I don't know yet, but it won't involve getting physical with him, at this point," Kyle said.
       "How many classes do you have with Denny or with Brady?" Brian asked.
       "Only one with Brady, but two with Denny," Murray said.
       "How many do you have with Marshall?" Kyle asked.
       "Only one," Murray said. "Hey, wait a minute, it's before and after that class that he picks on me, too. If I'm with Denny or Brady, he leaves me alone, if I even see him," Murray said.
       "What class and what period?" Kyle asked.
       "Biology. Second period," Murray said.
       "This is a snap. We'll get you in another biology class, and that'll take care of it," Kyle said.
       "I have Honors Biology second period," Denny said.
       "That's what I wanted, but they said it was full," Murray said.
       "It ain't going to be too full for you," Kyle said.
       "Five or six people got out of that class last week," Denny said.
       "See. There you go. You wanted the class. You need to get away from Marshall. There's now room in the class for you. This is way too easy to solve," Kyle said.
       "Plus, you got connections with that Miss Sally lady, don't you?" Justin said.
       "Miss Sally is a very, very good friend of mine. That's true. But this family has resources, not connections. Miss Sally's a resource, not a connection," Kyle said.
       "What's the difference?" Justin asked.
       "I don't know. Two different words, so they must be different, somehow," Kyle said.
       "Ken, you look like you're about to burst out laughing," Kevin said, grinning at me.
       "I am. I can't believe what I'm hearing. They're incredible," I said.
       "Well, you can believe it, Bubba, 'cause it's going to happen," Kyle said.
       "That's not what I meant, Kyle. I know it's going to happen. I meant I can't believe you all are just solving this problem like this," I said.
       "Who is Miss Sally?" Murray asked.
       "She's the principal," Kyle said.
       "You know her?" Murray asked, incredulously.
       "Yeah. She's my friend. And her only child is a gay man, too," Kyle said. "She don't allow any crap, where gay kids are concerned."
       "Murray, Kyle was the president of the Student Government Association last year. He knows the principal very well. And he's right. She'll authorize that transfer, even if the people in Guidance balk at it," Kevin said.
       "Me and Miss Sally are both Beach Rats," Kyle said. "She's way cool. If I wasn't gay, I'd marry that lady."
       "I think Kyle has a crush on Miss Sally," Tim said.
       Kyle actually blushed, and that made everybody laugh.
       "See," Tim said.
       "Shut up, Babe," Kyle said. He was laughing, but I could tell Tim had touched a nerve.
       "Okay, but it's good to know that my only rival is a fifty-something-year-old married woman," Tim said.
       "Shit! Who wants to shoot pool? Do you shoot pool, Ken?" Kyle asked.
       "Sure," I said.
       "Well, come on," he said.
       He and I moved over to the pool table, and Murray moved over there with us.
       "You want to play, too?" Kyle asked him.
       "No. I want to say thank you for figuring out how to handle Marshall. I really do want to be in that honors course, and I really do think that will solve the problem," Murray said.
       "I'm going to be at school first thing in the morning," Kyle said. "It will be taken care of."
       Kyle was as naked as a jaybird, but Murray and I both had towels around our waists. Murray had a very obvious erection under his.
       "Can I have a hug?" Murray asked.
       "Yeah, of course," Kyle said, and they hugged. There was real affection in that hug, too.
       "Damn, what is this thing all about?" Kyle asked, meaning Murray's hard-on.
       "Don't tease me about it, Kyle," Murray said.
       "I ain't going to tease you, but you need to get in the house and take care of that thing. That's a serious one," Kyle said.
       Murray blushed. Kyle kissed him on his forehead, and Murray went inside.
       "All the young ones are like that. They can't control it," Kyle said.
       "Can you?" I asked.
       "No," he said, grinning.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I knew what I had to do, and it wasn't going to be hard.
       I didn't have a class on Monday morning until ten o'clock, so I could have slept late. But, no. I got my ass up when Tim did the day after our talk about Murray. I had something to do that day, and, like my daddy always says, you'd best do it first thing.
       "Are you going to school with us today, Kyle?" Brian asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "I'm very proud of you, Kyle," Brian said.
       That sort of touched my heart a little bit. I tended to take Brian for granted, but we couldn't have been who we were without him. He was the best one to take pictures of because he was so damn good looking, but he was a whole lot more than that.
       "Thank you, Bubba. That means a lot to me," I said, and I choked up a little bit.
       Justin came into the breakfast room and looked at me.
       "What's going on?" he asked.
       "Shut up. Nothing's going on. Your boyfriend is just being nice to me," I said.
       "He's nice to me all the time," he said.
       "I know. I don't want to talk about this," I said.
       "What'd you do? Give him a compliment?" Justin asked Brian.
       Brian grinned.
       "Yes," Brian said. "And he didn't deny it."
       "I figured as much. I'm surprised, though," Justin said.
       "I think he's getting better about that, Buddy," Brian said.
       The other kids were in the breakfast room by then. Nobody had cooked anything that morning, so we were eating cold cereal. I liked cereal just fine, but I was going to stop and get me a couple of sausage biscuits before I went to school. I figured some of them would do the same thing.
       I pulled into a visitor parking place just as the bell was ringing. It would be another ten minutes, at least, before they finished with the morning announcements. I decided to wait in the car.
       "Sir, you can't loiter here," a voice I recognized said.
       "I ain't loitering," I said. When I looked to my left, it was Bill Harmon, the School Resource Office.
       "Fuck. Kyle, I didn't know it was you," he said, grinning and half laughing.
       "Hey, Bill. I got this new ride for graduation. You like it?"
       "Hell, yeah, I like it. This thing cost a damn fortune," he said.
       "Don't tell my parents, okay?" I said.
       He laughed. "Did you have a good summer?"
       "I had a great summer," I said. "I took back up with SCUBA. Me and Philip."
       "Well, that's good. Are you going to take some pictures underwater?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir. I got me a camera I can do that with now," I said.
       "So, what are you doing here?" he asked.
       "I need to talk to Miss Sally about one of my brothers," I said.
       "She's going to be glad to see you, dude. She loves your ass," he said.
       "She ain't the only one," I said.
       He laughed. "Kyle, you are so bad. I don't believe you're really queer," he said.
       "Well, believe it, bubba, 'cause it's true," I said.
       "I know, but you seem like just such a regular guy. You know my little brother's queer, don't you?"
       "I had heard that," I said.
       "Yeah, he is, but he's still my little brother, and ain't nothing changing that," he said.
       "I didn't think so. Bill, are you queer?" I asked.
       "I'm queer for you, Kyle. I want you so bad I can't stand it," he said.
       I just busted up laughing. I knew that boy was joking.
       "I'm reporting your ass to the sheriff for sexually harassing a queer," I said.
       We both laughed.
       "I'm not really gay, but I've thought about it, you know?"
       "I think every guy thinks about it, Bill. You'd know, if you were. Trust me on that," I said.
       "Thanks. That's what my brother says, too. I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'm straight," he said.
       "Cool. That's about the same percent sure I am that I'm gay," I said. "I need to go talk to Miss Sally, though, so I've got to go."
       "Call me up sometime. We can hang out or something," he said.
       "I'll do it, Bill," I said.
       I liked that boy a lot. He was probably twenty-three or twenty-four years old, and I didn't think the girls were lining up to get a piece of him. He weighed a lot more than I thought sheriffs could weigh, but maybe they made an exception for him because he was a School Resource Officer. I decided I would call him to go out or come over. It sounded like he needed friends.
       "KYYYYYYYLE!" Miss Sally screamed when she saw me.
       That was the thing about her. She was uninhibited, and that was one of the things I liked about her.
       "MISS SALLLLLLLLLY," I screamed, just as loud as her.
       We hugged right there in the lobby of the school. She looked really good that morning.
       "What are you doing here?" she asked.
       "I want to talk to you. I know I should have made an appointment, but it's kind of urgent," I said.
       "Well, come into my office. I've missed you," she said.
       "I've missed you, too," I said.
       I told her about the deal with Murray, and she said that was absolutely no problem. She told the lady on the desk to call Murray out of class to Guidance. I heard her do that, and I knew Murray was moving on to safety.
       "Tell me about your summer," she said. "Did you do any crabbing?"
       "Yes, ma'am, I did a little bit of crabbing, but my brothers rebelled and wouldn't pick 'em out. I switched to lobster hunting," I said.
       "Ohhhh. Shovelnose?" she asked.
       "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Do you like 'em?"
       "Kyle, I love them. They're the best lobsters to me," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am, I think so, too. You're going to have some this coming weekend," I said.
       "I wasn't begging," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am, I know you weren't, but I can get so many. I don't even know what to do with them all," I said. "If you don't get 'em this coming weekend, you'll get 'em the next time I go diving. That's a promise. Philip Andrews and Ryan Pettis are coming home for Labor Day Weekend from Tallahassee, and Philip and I will get you a bushel basket of 'em," I said.
       "How are Philip and Ryan doing?" she asked.
       "They're doing really good. I've talked to Philip a couple of times, and they are absolutely loving FSU," I said.
       "I don't know that I'll ever see another class quite like yours, Kyle. You and Philip set the tone for your class," she said.
       "I don't exactly know what you mean, but we had a good time. And we made an A in the school grade thing," I said.
       "Yes, we did, and I've had calls from high schools all over the state to find out how we did it. We've scheduled people from six different schools to visit us," she said. "And Kyle, having people from all over the state of Florida wanting to visit your school is about the biggest high a principal can get. It was your idea, too, wasn't it? The mentoring program."
       "You're the principal. You get the credit. Not me. I'm just a kid, Miss Sally. You know that," I said.
       "Kyle, you are so not a kid, at least the way I think of kids," she said.
       I laughed pretty hard at that.
       "I want to go to work, but my daddy won't let me," I said.
       "Your daddy knows what he's doing, Kyle. You don't need the money from a job, and you know it," she said.
       How'd she know that?
       "Yes, ma'am, I get pocket change. I can buy me a candy bar, if I want to," I said.
       "Or a candy factory?"
       "I'm not going there," I said.
       I accomplished my mission for Murray at Beachside High School that morning, and I felt really good. I stopped and got me three sausage biscuits. I went home, poured me some coffee, and ate them all up.

Chapter 07

(Kyle's Perspective)
       We called it the Beta Rho Fraternity, but it really was more like a social club of all guys than a real fraternity. I mean, some of the stuff was like a regular fraternity. You had to be asked to join it; you couldn't just sign up. We had a set of by-laws that said what kind of officers we had, what the fraternity did, and shit like that, but those were like two single-spaced typed pages. To show you how organized it was, when they wanted to give us new members a copy of it, nobody could find one. They had to end up calling the older brother of one of the officers to see if he still had his from when he was in it. He did, so they didn't have to go through the trouble of writing it up all over again.
       "Isn't there a copy on file with the Student Activity Board?" I asked Skeeter McGhee, our president and the guy who asked me to join.
       "I don't know. I didn't think of that, Kyle. Hell, you ought to be the president, not me," he said.
       "Not me," I said. "I'm only going to be in it one year."
       "Oh, that's right. Well, you'll have fun, though. How about being Service Chairman?" he asked.
       "What does he do?" I asked.
       "We do some service projects, you know? he said.
       "Like what?" I asked.
       "Well, like helping the old ladies at the retirement center get laid," he said.
       I laughed hard at how serious he had said that.
       "You don't believe me?" he asked. He was laughing at his own foolishness.
       "Hell, no, I don't believe you," I said. "But if it's for real, I'll help, as long as I don't have to do it."
       "Kyle, that's gross, man. All those damn loose, saggy-ass pussies. Ewww. No thank you," he said.
       "What? I thought you wanted pussy any time you could get it," I said.
       "Well, I do, but not my grandma's pussy," he said. "I like 'em young, tight, succulent. You know what I'm saying?"
       "Well, not first hand, I don't," I said. "I can imagine, though."
       "Oh, that's right. I forget you're queer. You need to get you something, like an earring or something like that, to remind us so we don't say stupid shit and embarrass you," he said.
       "You ain't going to embarrass me. There are some other gay boys in this thing, too, you know?"
       "Yeah, I know. Kyle, nobody really gives a fuck, okay? Don't ever forget that. You're our friends and our brothers, and every last one of y'all is a Beach Rat, just like me. That's really all that matters," he said.
       I never thought he would be that open-minded, that's for sure. I mean he was likeable as hell, and I remembered that he almost didn't graduate from high school because of all the shit he stayed in. One time his daddy was all set to send his ass to military boarding school, but somehow he squirmed his way out of that. His family has a chain of Waffle House and Waffle Shop restaurants, and one day Skeeter and his brother were going to run the whole thing. That's when I would stop eating waffles.
       "So, Kyle, are you going to do it, or not?" he asked.
       "Do what? Fuck the old ladies at the retirement home?" I asked.
       "No, asshole. Not that. Be our Service Chairman," he said.
       "Yeah, I guess I'll do that," I said. "What do I have to do?"
       "Line up and organize some service projects, that's what. First, talk to people who are having events and shit to find out what kind of help they need. Then, make a list to present to the officers. We'll decide which ones we can do and which ones we want to do," he said.
       "You mean like charities and shit like that?" I asked.
       "Yeah, that's exactly right. Now, we've got some standing ones we do every year. For instance, the College has a public radio station, and every year, twice a year, in fact, they have an on-air fund raising. We always man the phones for them. People call in with their pledges, and we take down the information. We also help out with the Emerald Coast Seafood Festival in October, the Ironman in November, the Optimist Club Christmas tree lot in December. We usually do about ten or twelve a year. Or at least we did last year. I guess that's the usual number," he said.
       "Does somebody have records on all of this from last year?" I asked.
       "Maybe. Maybe not. We're not too good about keeping up with stuff," he said.
       "Sounds like me," I said.
       "I figured that. It's a good thing we've got guys who have been members for four or five years. They remember stuff," he said.
       "We have guys who've been members four or five years? It ain't but a two-year college. How can that be?" I asked.
       "Yeah, but don't everybody go through in just two years. I figure it's going to take me three, at the least," he said.
       I thought about ole Brian and Tim, wanting to get through as fast as they could. I figured Justin would probably take three years, if we were going to be here, but he had some very good reasons for that. Me, I wanted to be out of school as fast as I could. I was not a natural-born school boy the way my boyfriend was, and I knew it.
       "So, who might have the records?" I asked.
       He said a name that I didn't know. Something Johnson, I think he said. He said he'd talk to the boy about them, though.
       Skeeter and I were sitting in an outdoor area at the Student Union. It was hot outside, but he wanted to smoke, and you couldn't smoke anywhere indoors. He checked his watch.
       "I've got to go to class," he said. "I'll get those records for you. Thanks for doing it, man. You're going to be good at it. Catch you later."
       "Okay. Catch you later," I said.
       Skeeter McGhee was a very high-spirited boy. Senior year, his girlfriend turned up pregnant. I was a junior, and she was in my class. I really liked her, and she and I were pretty good friends. She told me the news about the baby one day, just a-crying her eyes out. I tried to be sympathetic because she was so upset, but I thought, Don't you know about birth control? Of course, I didn't say anything.
       Getting your girlfriend pregnant in high school was a two-edged sword. On one edge, all your guy friends thought you were a stud and an awesome cocksman, and all. They all wanted a play-by-play about how it happened, like they didn't know. On the other edge, though, was all the shit you had to take from all the girls, from her parents, from your parents, and even from some of the teachers who thought they were there to raise us and not just teach us. Then, when the baby came, something had to be done with it. And somebody had to support it.
       Ole Skeeter managed to dodge the bullet, though. His girlfriend had a miscarriage, or some shit like that. I figured she had an abortion, but I kept my mouth shut about that. Anyway, there was no baby forthcoming, and she gave Skeeter his walking papers soon after that was all over with.
       "Who was that guy you were talking to?" Justin asked me when I went back into the Union to cool off.
       "That was Skeeter McGhee. He's the president of Beta Rho. Let me get a bottle of water. I'm burning up," I said.
       I got a bottle of cold water and went back to Justin's table.
       "He suckered me into being Service Chairman. I've got to line up all the service projects we do," I said.
       "If he had any sense, he'd have made you entertainment chairman so you could put on some parties and dinners and whatnot," he said.
       "I think I'm going to enjoy this, though. It'll be like my volunteer job," I said.
       "I thought you were going to work at the UCP place," Jus said.
       "That's what I wanted to do, but they didn't really have anything for me. They needed somebody to work in the infant stimulation program they have. I wasn't interested in working with babies. They need a girl or a woman to do that," I said. "The only other job they had was grounds keeper, and there's nothing to that. I mean, once you call the lawn service, the job is done," I said.
       "Call the lawn service? You think that's what they wanted the grounds keeper to do? They wanted the grounds keeper to be the lawn service, Kyle. Not hire the lawn service. Have you ever cut grass?" he asked.
       "No. Have you?" I asked.
       "A few times, yeah. It's hard work. Sweaty. Nasty," he said. "I don't know how to tell you this, Kyle, but most people do their own lawns."
       "Yeah, I guess you're right. We never did that stuff in my family, and Kevin and Rick don't do it, either," I said.
       "That's 'cause they're rich. They can afford to have a lawn service. Most people can't afford that, or don't want to spend their money that way," he said. "You've got a lot to learn about a poor man's life, son."
       "I guess I do," I said. "But do I really want to learn it?"
       "Yeah, you do, and here's why. One day you're going to have a whole lot of people working for you who won't be poor, exactly, but they won't be rich, either. You have to be able to understand where they're coming from on different things. Let's take a yard as an example, since that's what we've been talking about. A lot of people take a lot of pride in their yards, and it's damn hard work. Let's say one day your secretary comes in all excited because she got 'Yard of the Month' in her neighborhood. You've got to know that she did more than just design the yard and supervise the people who made it happen. Or, in the case of your family, pick out the design she liked best from the designs the landscaper proposed," he said.
       I was soaking up everything he was saying because I knew he had more practical experience with that kind of thing than I did. When my parents built their new house, the landscape architect really did just present several different plans for them to choose from. They even asked my opinion and Tim's opinion about which one we liked best. Or which combination. All the gardens at their house--front, back, and both sides--are beautiful, but neither one of my parents ever turned the first spade of dirt.
       "Justin, I feel like I've learned a whole lot in these last fifteen minutes talking to you about this. You need to keep this kind of stuff up. I'm counting on you," I said.
       "Kyle, you and Kevin and Rick have taught me so much about how rich people live and do things, I can't even list it all. Y'all keep teaching me about being rich, and I'll keep teaching you about being poor, and maybe we can meet somewhere in the middle," he said.
       "That sounds real good, but let's meet on the rich side of the middle, okay?" I said.
       He laughed.
       "You shit," he said.
       "Call me a shit all you want to, Bubba, but the fact of the matter is, you're never going to be poor again," I said.
       He got quiet, and I knew he was thinking.
       "I guess you're right," he said. Big tears were glistening in his eyes. They weren't rolling yet, but they were right there on ready. "I hadn't really ever thought about that before. I guess my life made a bigger change than I thought when y'all rescued me that day."
       He dabbed at his eyes with a paper napkin.
       "Let me buy you an ice cream bar out of that case over there," I said.
       "You shithead," he said.
       We both laughed.
       "I mean it. I want one, too," I said.
       "Get 'em. I can eat one," he said.

(Tim's Perspective)
       It was hard going back to school without Kyle being there. When he was a senior, I didn't really see him that much during the school day, but I knew he was there. He made the morning announcements every day, and I loved watching him on TV. Then we always went to lunch together with the rest of the guys, and I'd see him then. We didn't kiss, or even touch except incidentally, at lunch, but just being in the same room with Kyle made me happy.
       The other thing I didn't really like was I was the only senior. It was like it fell to me to keep our group at Beachside High School together and organized. Brian and I were a team, sort of, but even he looked to me for leadership. Kyle and Justin were the leader types. Brian and I were the followers. Chad was a junior like Brian, but he had almost no leadership ability that I could tell.
       "Who's going to lunch with us?" Brian asked me the first day of school.
       "I don't know. Help me figure it out," I said.
       I had a car, and Brian had a car, so nine guys could go with us, four in mine and five in Brian's.
       "Well, you, me, Denny, Murray, Brady, Chip, Chad," Brian said. "That's seven. Does anybody else need to go?"
       "David used to go with us sometimes last year," I said. "But I haven't talked to him since school was out. I don't even know if he still goes here."
       "If we see him, let's invite him," Brian said.
       A week later, after we had met the new next door neighbors, Wade and Reid, we invited them to join us for lunch, too. They both wanted to go to lunch with us after we explained it, and that took some weight off me. They were both seniors, too, and we were back up to three seniors in our group.
       * * *
       We planned a big bash for Labor Day. Craig and Cherie were coming with little Rob, and we couldn't wait to see them.
       "Who are these people?" Murray asked.
       "It's my brother, his wife, and my nephew," Kevin said.
       "How old is the nephew?" Murray asked.
       "He's just a little over two months old. He was born on Justin's birthday on July Fourth," Kevin said.
       "I wish Grandma and Grandpa were coming," Kyle said. "Why aren't they, any way?"
       "They're in Europe right now, Kyle. It's their vacation," Kevin said.
       "They need to plan that better next year so they can be here with us," Kyle said. "What about your parents, Rick?"
       "They're tied up with school stuff, Kyle. Now that Arnie is Superintendent, he's got to be there," Rick said. "They want to see Rob in the worst way, but they can't come."
       "I think it sucks that a family can't be together on a sacred day like Labor Day," Kyle said.
       "A sacred day?" Rick asked.
       "Ain't it religious?" Kyle asked. "I thought that was the day Mary went into labor for Jesus."
       "Kyle, think about it, Babe. If she went into labor at the start of September, and Jesus wasn't born until December 25th, that would have been way too long," I said.
       "Well, what is Labor Day for?" Kyle asked.
       "It's the holiday for the labor unions, Kyle. It celebrates the importance of labor and labor unions in our country," Kevin said.
       "Oh. I didn't know that," Kyle said, and I didn't, either.
       For us, Labor Day was the end of the summer season. The transformation of the beaches was remarkable. It was still summer, of course, but the number of people visiting fell from 30,000 a weekend to 3,000 a weekend after Labor Day. Gradually through September things quieted down, and by the first weekend in October there were few tourists in the area.
       * * *
       The baby still didn't do much, but he could hold his head up and sort of look around.
       "When's he going to start to crawl?" Kyle asked.
       "Not for several more months," Cherie said. "He strong, and he's been gaining weight right on schedule. He should be scooting around by the time he's six months old."
       "I can't wait till he can walk and talk," Kyle said. "We're going to have some fun with him, that's for sure."
       "How is college?" Cherie asked Kyle and Justin.
       "It's all right, I reckon," Justin said. "I'm doing pretty good in math, which I was scared of at first. I'm learning how to take pictures, too."
       "Really? Do you have any to show?" Cherie asked.
       "Yeah. Let me get 'em," Justin said.
       He was proud of his pictures, but I think Kyle was even prouder of Justin's pictures than Justin was.
       "Ain't they good?" Kyle asked.
       "They're not as good as yours," Justin said.
       "Yeah, maybe not, but those are the first ones you ever took, Bubba. Give yourself some credit," Kyle said.
       "This sunset is beautiful, Jus," Cherie said.
       Justin beamed.
       "I want him to get himself a good camera," Kyle said.
       "What camera have you been using?" Cherie asked.
       "A rental from the college," Jus said. "I want to get me one, but I want to make sure I like taking pictures first before I put a lot of money into a camera."
       "That makes sense," she said.
       Kyle and Philip Andrews, who was home for the weekend, went SCUBA diving Saturday morning, and they came back with two huge crates of those shovelnose lobsters. Kyle filled up a small hamper with those, and he and I took them over to Miss Sally's house.
       Kyle rang the doorbell, and we waited. Miss Sally came to the door.
       "Hi, guys. Happy Labor Day," she said.
       "Hi, and same to you," Kyle said. "I brought you some lobsters."
       "Great! You said you would, and I was hoping you wouldn't forget," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am," Kyle said. "Where do you want them?"
       "Would you mind bringing them into the kitchen?" she asked.
       "Sure," Kyle said.
       We took the hamper into the kitchen and set it on the counter next to the sink.
       "Would you guys like a coke or something?" she asked.
       "No, ma'am, but thanks. We've got to go. We've got a house full back at Kevin and Rick's," Kyle said.
       "Listen, thank you so much for the lobsters. We're having a gathering on Monday, and those will be a big hit," she said.
       "Good. I think I'd probably dress 'em and freeze 'em, if I were you," Kyle said. "Do you know how to dress 'em?"
       "I don't, but I'm sure my husband does. He's not here right now, but he'll be home in a little while," she said.
       "Well, if he doesn't know how, tell him to call me. I'll come over and show him how to do it," Kyle said.
       "Okay. Thanks again, fellows," she said.
       "Don't mention it," Kyle said.
       "Tim, I haven't really seen you much yet this year. How are your classes going?" she asked as she was walking us out.
       "They're going great. I have Mr. Lawley for calculus, and he's the best teacher I've ever had," I said. "And, he's a friend of ours."
       "Oh, I know. Mike's a marvelous teacher. I wish I could clone him," she said. "Is everything working out for the other boy? What was his name, Kyle?"
       "Murray Schultz. Yes, ma'am, everything's fine now. We're trying to help him lose some weight. He's been on the Weight Watchers diet, and so far he's lost six pounds," Kyle said. "This is part of his total makeover. We're working on him being less sissified, too."
       "Don't press too hard with his mannerisms, Kyle. He might not be able to help the way he is," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am, I know that, but there are some things he can do to be more masculine. It's just a question of him remembering to do it," Kyle said.
       "Did he ask you for help with that?" she asked.
       "Yes, ma'am, he did. Miss Sally, we don't make fun of people," Kyle said.
       "I didn't think you did," she said.
       "Well, we need to get going. Have a good holiday," Kyle said.
       "You, too, guys. And thanks again for the lobsters."
       "I didn't realize Murray had asked you for help being more masculine," I said, once we were back in the car.
       "Yeah, he asked me and Justin," Kyle said.
       "What kinds of things did you tell him to do? Or not do?" I asked.
       "Have you noticed how he crosses his legs when he sits down? When you and I cross our legs we put the ankle of one leg over the knee of the other one. Murray puts knee on knee. That's the way a lady does it," Kyle said.
       "I hadn't thought about that, but you're right," I said.
       "When he puts his hands on his hips, he turns his hands up. You and I turn our hands down. Justin's got this thing with the way Murray holds a cigarette. He's working on that with him. Trouble is, Murray doesn't smoke enough for it to make much impact," Kyle said.
       "Speaking of smoking, you've quit, haven't you?" I said.
       He shrugged.
       "It never bothered me when you were smoking," I said.
       "I still smoke sometimes, especially when I'm around Philip and Ryan," he said.
       "Did you smoke today with Philip?" I asked.
       "No," he said. "But talking about it is making me want one."
       I laughed, and he did, too.
       "Kyle, I love you so much," I said. "I can't even imagine somebody being able to take your place in my life."
       "I love you, too, but what brought that on?" he asked.
       "I don't know. I just felt like saying it, I guess," I said.
       We were nearing our driveway, and another car had just pulled up. Seth and Curt from New Orleans got out of it.
       "Look who's here," Kyle said.
       We had a big reunion with Seth and Curt, and there was a lot of hugging and handshaking all around. Every time we saw Seth he looked better and better, and it was hard to imagine that the boy we saw that day had once been a scrawny, ugly bean pole.
       All of our friends came, too, and so did the neighbors on both sides. It was a mob of people, and Cherie was the only woman there.
       We all took turns tending to the baby so Cherie could get involved with some of the activities outside. She wore a swim suit for everything, skiing and pool. Kyle and I didn't know what to do about the situation, so Kyle discussed the matter with Craig.
       "Is Cherie going to be embarrassed if some of the guys get naked?" he said.
       "Kyle, if anybody should be embarrassed, it's you for showing that pitiful little thing you've got," Craig said.
       "Very funny," Kyle said, "but that's not what I meant."
       "I know it's not, but I couldn't resist," Craig said. "Actually, she mentioned that on the way over."
       "Y'all talked about my dick on the way over here?" Kyle asked, trying to sound shocked but not really succeeding.
       "Yeah. She asked me if you have one," Craig said.
       "What did she really say?" Kyle asked.
       "She said she hoped that her being here wouldn't inhibit anyone when it came to skinny dipping. Those were her exact words," Craig said.
       "Are you going to swim naked?" I asked.
       "I'm going to wait to see what Kevin and Rick do," Craig said.
       "That's a good idea," Kyle said. "Let's you and me do that, too, Babe."
       "Okay," I said. I felt sort of relieved.
       As it turned out, nobody took their suits off as long as Cherie was outside, but we did when she went inside after dinner that night to watch a movie that Jeff had brought over. I figured that sooner or later Cherie would see all of us naked, and I also knew she couldn't care less if we wore suits or not. It was just one of those taboos that was hard to break, I guess.

(Cherie's Perspective)
       I loved it in Emerald Beach, and every time I was there I marveled more and more at the wonderful thing that was taking place in that house. They had a new one that I hadn't met before. Murray, and he seemed to fit in right along with the rest of them. He was rather effeminate and somewhat overweight, but that didn't seem to bother the other guys.
       The main reason for our going was the holiday, of course, but I also had a little bit of business to transact with Kyle. I was able to drag him away from playing for a little while on Sunday afternoon, and he and I met in the study with the door closed.
       "Whacha got for me?" he asked, all grins.
       "I need your signature on some documents, kind sir," I said.
       "For you, I'll do anything," he said.
       God! What a charmer, I thought.
       I explained to him what the documents were all about. He paid polite attention, but I could tell he wasn't the least bit interested in what I was telling him.
       "So, right now your holdings are worth a little more than sixteen million dollars," I said.
       That actually got his attention.
       "Whoa! That's quite a bit, isn't it?" he said.
       "Yes, it is," I said. "And it's in extremely safe securities. The accountant asked me to check to make sure you're getting your check every month. You are, aren't you?"
       "Yes, ma'am," he said.
       I started to give him a flippant reply, but I knew he wasn't trying to tease me by using "ma'am."
       "So what are you doing with them? You've only cashed one of them since November," I said.
       "I don't need that much money," he said. "I guess I should just put them in my savings account or something, huh?"
       "Yes. Don't leave checks lying around. Where are they right now?" I asked.
       "In my car," he said.
       I controlled my urge to scream at him.
       "When we're finished, I want you to go get them out of your car and take them up to your room," I said. "And Tuesday I want you to deposit them."
       "Okay," he said. "Cherie, I want to talk to you about money for my brothers."
       I knew that was coming. He had told me months ago that he wanted to bestow money on Tim, Justin, and Brian. I had encouraged him to wait until they were eighteen, but he actually couldn't do what he wanted to do until he turned twenty-one. Evidently, I hadn't made that clear to him.
       "Kyle, I know you do, baby, but you can't do that right now," I said.
       "Why not? Justin's nineteen," he said. "You said I had to wait until they turned eighteen."
       "I know I told you that, and that's true. Evidently I didn't fully explain everything. Kyle, the way your trust is set up makes it impossible for you to get to the principal until you're twenty-one. When you turned eighteen, you started getting a portion of the dividends every month. You're not getting money from the principal. In fact, most of the dividends are being reinvested, too. That's why the amount keeps growing. When you turn twenty-one, you get full control over the whole thing. That's when you can set up trusts, or something similar, for your guys," I said.
       "Damn," he said.
       "Does Justin need money right now?" I asked.
       "No, not especially, but I want him to feel secure and independent," he said.
       "Do the boys know you plan to do this?" I asked.
       "No, you told me not to tell them," he said. "And I haven't."
       "I think it would be prudent to wait until Brian turns eighteen before you give anybody anything," I said. "How much were you thinking?"
       "I don't know. Two million apiece, I guess," he said.
       "That would leave you ten million, at least," I said. "You could live well on the dividends from that much money."
       "About how much would they get from two million?" he asked.
       "It's hard to know, for sure, but I would guess about seventy-five thousand a year, give or take," I said. "They could live on that amount, I'm pretty sure. Unless they become international playboys, or something."
       "Well, I guess there's not much point in talking about it until I can actually do it," he said.
       "That's true," I said. "Do you understand now how this thing works?"
       His mood had taken a decided downward turn.
       "Yeah," he said.
       "I know this is depressing to you, but it's exactly how I would have set it up. Look at the bright side. You and your boys have a wonderful life here. You've got everything you need. You're surrounded by people who love you. You're all very happy and well adjusted. There will come a time when you'll be able to make those three guys financially independent. In the meantime, just have fun with your boys," I said.
       "Would you ever consider leaving Craig and marrying me?" he asked in total deadpan.
       That took me totally by surprise, and I started laughing.
       "I guess that's a 'no,'" he said.
       "You are something else," I said, still laughing in delight at him. "Would you leave Tim for me?"
       "No, it would be the three of us, and Rob, of course," he said.
       "Ah ha! There's the ulterior motive. You want that baby, don't you?"
       Now it was his turn to laugh.
       "You see right through me," he said.
       "Maybe some day you and Tim will have a son of your own," I said.
       "Oh, we will. You can count on that," he said.
       "That's really all I have for today," I said. "We can go play some more."
       We stood up to leave. He took me in his arms to hug me like any man would any woman. I found myself becoming slightly aroused at his touch, and his Speedo did nothing to conceal his own reaction. For an instant, I wondered just how gay Kyle really was. We separated.
       "That was nice. Thank you," I said. "And you seem to have enjoyed it, too."
       He looked down at his crotch.
       "Oh, my God! I can't believe you said that. I'm so embarrassed," he said.
       "Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.
       "No! I want to hide in shame. Please don't tell anybody about what happened," he said.
       "I can't tell anybody, and I wouldn't even if I could. Not even Craig," I said.
       "Oh, Jesus, please don't tell him. I'm so sorry, Cherie. I'll never do anything like that again. I promise," he said. "I really didn't do it on purpose."
       "Kyle, you don't have anything to be ashamed of, and I know you didn't do anything on purpose. Think about it from my point of view, though," I said.
       "What?"
       "I turned on a gay guy. Or started to, at least, and I wasn't even trying. You just sent my ego through the roof, and I can't say a damn thing about it to anybody," I said.
       "I love you, Cherie, but not like that. I feel like I've been unfaithful to Tim, or something," he said.
       "Well, you haven't been unfaithful to Tim. It's ridiculous to think that way, Kyle. Are you okay now?" I asked.
       "Yeah," he said.
       I looked at the bulge in his suit. It was large, but not any larger than it usually was. I left that meeting aching for a piece of Craig.

(Seth's Perspective)
       Whenever I went to Emerald Beach, I felt as though I had come home to my family. The weeks I had spent there the summer before had been the happiest time of my life, and walking into that house brought back all those good memories.
       Curt and I were very much in love, and we had both decided that our relationship was the most important thing in our lives. He was a sophomore at UNO, and I was a freshman at Tulane. We lived in half of a shotgun house in Mid-City near City Park, so it was about equally convenient for both of us. Shotgun houses are duplexes, with the rooms lined up one behind the other. The saying was that you could shoot a shotgun into the front door, and the shot would fly out the back door without hitting anything. I don't know if anybody had ever tested that, but it certainly seemed possible.
       Our house had been renovated and modernized a few years before by our landlords, a thirties-something gay couple of long duration who lived in the other half of the house. There was no off-street parking, and that was a bit of a problem sometimes, but otherwise the place was great. The small back yard wasn't divided in half, and they had landscaped it beautifully. It even had a hot tub that both sides shared.
       One of the guys who lived next door worked for the New Orleans Museum of Art, and the other one had a job in the finance office of a local hospital. They were great guys, but they didn't know we were gay when they rented the place to us. When they found that out, they sort of took us under their wings, like we were their little brothers or something.
       "How do you like Tulane, Seth?" Craig asked me while we were lounging around on the patio.
       "So far, so good," I said. "It's only been a few weeks, but so far, I like it."
       "Have you pledged a frat?" he asked.
       "Naw. I decided not to do that," I said. "My dad was a little disappointed, I think, but he'll get over it."
       "That would be kind of difficult with Curt at UNO," he said.
       "That's what I thought, too. I'm going to be in activities, though. I talked to them at The Hullabaloo, and I'm going to be working on their staff," I said.
       "A reporter?" Craig asked.
       "Features, not news," I said.
       "I tried to get him to write sports, thinking maybe we could get some free tickets for games, but he wasn't interested," Curt said.
       "You have to know something about sports to write sports stories, and you have to care, which I don't," I said.
       Craig and the guys around us laughed.
       "I think he's making a very good point, Curt," Craig said. "Although you've really bulked up, Bubba."
       "Thanks. We both have," I said.
       "True, but you had further to go than he did," Craig said.
       "The new guy seems really nice," I said, changing the subject to get it away from me.
       "Yeah, but he's a little bit Tinkerbellish," Craig said. "Not that it matters. I just feel for guys like that because I know they get picked on more than other guys do. Even the straight Tinkerbells do."
       "Well, if I know Kyle and this bunch here, they'll make sure he's safe," I said. "He looks to me like maybe he's Jewish. Does he to you?"
       "You're learning how to spot Jews, and you've only been at Tulane a month," Craig said.
       "Well, there are quite a few Jews at that school," I said. "It's a refreshing change from the Catholic ghetto I've lived in all my life."
       "I know what you mean. I remember thinking that I could finally say 'Jesus Christ!' as an expletive and half the people didn't bow their heads," Craig said.
       It so happened that everybody in that little group was Catholic, and we all roared with laughter.
       "What's so funny? What are y'all laughing at?" Kyle asked as he came out of the house.
       I told him what Craig had said, and most of us laughed again.
       "I don't get it," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, in Catholic school we were taught to always bow our heads slightly when you said, or heard somebody else say, the name 'Jesus.' It got to be a habit," Craig said, "and you'd see guys doing it if somebody let out that name in anger or in a game or something. Or even if they said it themselves. It's just one of the little things about life in the Catholic ghetto of New Orleans."
       "That, and making the sign of the cross when you pass a church," I said. "I broke myself of that habit when I was in high school and had to take city busses to school sometimes. A lot of people on the bus did it, though."
       "I still do that occasionally, and Cherie does it every time," Craig said.
       "That's pretty cool, I think. It's like a secret handshake or something," Kyle said. "Of course, over there, there are so many churches that you pass all the time."
       "Exactly," I said.
       "What other stuff like that did y'all do?" Kyle asked.
       "Gosh, I don't know," Craig said. "In high school there would be periodic unannounced rosary checks. Are they still doing that?"
       "Oh, yes," I said.
       "They did that at my high school in Baton Rouge, too," Curt said.
       "Well, yeah. It's the same order," I said.
       "So what's a rosary check?" Kyle asked.
       "We were required to have a rosary on us at all times, and you'd get in trouble if you didn't have one," Craig said.
       "Did you need 'em for school?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah. We used to say a decade of the rosary every day after lunch," I said. "And for some reason they thought it was necessary to have a physical rosary in your hand to do it right. My father still carries his rosary in his pocket all the time."
       "Mine does, too," Craig said. "I'm not sure he ever says the rosary, but he's always got it handy if he needs it. Cherie's always got one in her purse, and my mother probably does, too. Habits of a lifetime."
       "Oh, another thing. Holy water fonts in the classrooms. Every classroom had one, and I had a friend who had them all over his house," Craig said.
       "That would be me," Curt said. "There was one in every bedroom. I always thought it would be convenient to have one in the bathroom so you wouldn't have to wash your hands after you took a leak. I, for one, never pissed on my hand, and I never knew why they insisted I wash up afterward."
       Craig and Father Jerry almost fell off their chairs, they were laughing so hard.
       "And did you have a sick call set in the house?" Jerry asked.
       "Had? Hell, we still do. We got one as a wedding present," Craig said.
       "What is that?" Kyle asked.
       "It's basically a crucifix that comes apart. The bottom half forms a stand that you can put the crucifix in to stand up straight on a table. There are also a couple of little candles for either side of the crucifix. Kind of like birthday candles. And a little bottle of holy water, I think," Craig said. "You use that when somebody in the house is dying and the priest comes to give them the last rites."
       "You got that for your wedding?" Kyle asked. "That's kind of morbid."
       "Oh, that's very much a traditional Catholic wedding gift," Jerry said. "In the Boston area, that's what the bride's godmother gives the couple."
       "Damn, I'm learning a lot about you Catholics," Kyle said.
       "You Catholics?" Jerry asked.
       "Us Catholics, I should have said," Kyle said.
       "I've always been fascinated by the fact that we have devotions to various bodily organs," Jerry said.
       "Like what?" Kyle asked.
       "I hadn't thought about that, but you're right, Jerry," I said.
       "Like what?" Kyle asked again, that time with more vehemence.
       "Well, the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The Immaculate Heart of Mary. The Holy Face. The Precious Blood. And, until a few decades ago, the Circumcision of Jesus," Jerry said.
       "The Circumcision of Jesus?! What the hell are you talking about, man? The Holy Dick, or something?" Kyle asked.
       "Well, we never called it the Holy Dick, but New Year's Day used to be the feast of the Circumcision of Jesus," Jerry said. "Now it's called the Solemnity of Mary, which is a meaningless concept, I think. I think they changed it for reasons of political correctness and decorum. That devotion to organs has always been there, though."
       Kyle was laughing his ass off over that, but I had actually heard priests say that January first was the day we celebrated the circumcision of Jesus. It was the eighth day of the life of Jesus, if you considered December 25th to be his real birthday, and that would have been the day He was circumcised according to Jewish law at the time.
       "I'm a new Catholic, so I don't know about all of this," Kyle said. "Are we supposed to believe Jesus was circumcised?"
       "It's not a major dogma, or anything like that, but he was Jewish, Kyle. He must have been circumcised," Jerry said.
       "Damn. I never thought about that," Kyle said. "I think about dicks a good bit, but I've never thought about Jesus' dick before."
       That time Jerry did fall out of his chair laughing, but he caught himself before he hit the ground. If he had fallen, none of us would have been able to help him up because we were all weak with laughter, too.
       * * *
       "I had a great time," Curt said as we were driving home on Monday. "Those guys are incredible."
       "I can't agree more, but you're pretty incredible yourself, Babe," I said.
       "If I am, then so are you. It takes one to know one," he said.

Chapter 08

(Jerry's Perspective)
       One of the best things I had ever done was put a move on Rick Mashburn at the health club. Actually, doing it was despicable and something I was ashamed of then and now, but that opened the gate to my friendship with Rick, Kevin, their boys, their friends, and the Reverend Vincent Vickers. As a result of my lustful act at the gym, I gained a warm and accepting family of gay men and a very large circle of friends.
       Vince was the associate pastor at the parish of Rick's parents in Sarasota, and I met him when I went there with the Foley-Mashburn family to bury Rick's grandfather. I was there as a friend, not as a priest, but the two roles were, ultimately, inseparable. When Mrs. Mashburn, Rick's grandmother, found out I was a priest, she insisted I help with the funeral.
       "I would be more than happy to concelebrate with the local priest, if he's willing," I said to her when she asked me to say the Mass of Resurrection for her husband. "But, really, the local parish is supposed to be responsible for that, and they might be offended."
       "That would be marvelous, Father," she said. "Please do it for Rick."
       When she said that, I knew there was no way I could refuse.
       It turned out Vince and I were exactly the same age and had been ordained the same year. I liked him immediately, and I think he liked me immediately, too. After the time in Sarasota, he and I stayed in touch. At first just through email, and then we took to calling each other. He was gay, just as I was, and he was struggling with his vow of celibacy, just as I was, too. We became kind of an informal support group for each other.
       "Jerry, I could really go for you, man," he said on the phone one night shortly after Labor Day.
       "I know, and don't think it's not mutual," I said. "I told you about my little scrape with the law in Boston, and I told you about coming on to Rick Mashburn. Those two episodes made me really think, man. I want to be a priest with all my being, and that includes celibacy, at least until they change the rules."
       "I know. Me, too," he said. "But it's so difficult."
       "I'm guessing you masturbate," I said. "I do."
       "Shit, that's my middle name. The Internet has been a God-send for that," he said.
       I laughed at his choice of words.
       "That's kind of ironic, isn't it?" he said, laughing, too.
       "It is ironic, but I know exactly what you mean," I said. "The only Internet connection in this rectory was in the office, so I'm paying for a connection in my room."
       "Me, too," he said.
       "By the way, Justin Davis talked to me the other day about going through RCIA. He's starting this week," I said.
       "That's the big blond one, right?" Vince asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Be still my heart," Vince said.
       "I know. That kid and Kyle Goodson both exude sexuality to me," I said. "They're both really good boys, though. It's going to be all I can do to keep my hand out of my pocket when I'm counseling him."
       "I hear you, brother," Vince said. "I need to run. Keep the faith."
       "And spread it," I said.
       "You, too," he said, and we broke the connection.
       * * *
       When Kyle Goodson had first talked to me about being received into the Church, I had made it a point to bring up the topic of homosexuality with him in a private discussion. I wanted to make sure he didn't have any moral hang-ups about the way God had made him, and he didn't seem to. Naturally, when Justin and I met the first time, I took the same approach.
       "Justin, I want to talk about homosexuality," I said.
       "Why?" he responded. I was a bit taken aback.
       "You're gay, aren't you?" I asked.
       "Yeah. So are you. I don't have a problem with you, Padre," he said.
       What he said wasn't the least bit funny objectively, but the way he said it was hilarious to me.
       "Justin, I know you don't have a problem with me, and I don't have a problem with you, either. Do you have a problem with homosexuality?"
       "I've got it, but I don't consider it a problem," he said. "I mean, it ain't contagious."
       I didn't know if I was going to be able to get through this counseling session or not without dissolving into a puddle of laughter.
       When I finally pulled myself together, I took a deep breath.
       "Bubba, are you trying to be funny?" I asked.
       "No, sir," he said, and I believed him. I was the one with the problem, not him.
       "Okay, I want to be serious for just a little while," I said.
       "Yes, sir," he said.
       I went through my usual spiel about what the Church teaches about homosexuality and homosexual acts, and he listened politely. I told him about the passages in scripture that many people use to condemn homosexuality as an abomination.
       "What does that mean?" he asked.
       "What does what mean?" I asked in return.
       "That big word you just said," he replied.
       "Abomination?" I asked.
       "Yeah. What is that?"
       "It means 'something awful, terrible, seriously wrong,'" I said.
       "Oh, okay. Even if two guys are in love?" he asked.
       "That's what they believe. Yes," I said.
       "That's bullshit," he said.
       "Justin, my friend, I think you just proved you understand what I'm talking about pretty well," I said.
       I told him about selecting a sponsor.
       "Could Doc do it again?" he asked.
       "Doc?" I asked, not really keying in on George Murphy immediately.
       "Tim's daddy. George Murphy," he said.
       "Oh. Sorry. I forgot that you guys call him Doc. He'd be great, but it's kind of time-consuming. Let's get a back-up if he's not willing to do it again," I said.
       "Kevin?"
       "Kevin would be wonderful," I said. "Or Rick."
       "Not Rick. I love that man to death, and I look up to him in every way, but he doesn't know much more about the Catholic Church than I do," he said.
       "Let's go with George first and Kevin as a back-up," I said.
       "Can I have two?" he asked.
       There was absolutely no reason in the world why he couldn't have two, but, if the RCIA had any flaws, it was in the amount of time it demanded of the sponsor. I made a quick decision with that fact in mind.
       "No," I said.
       "Okay," he said.
       Justin ended up not asking George Murphy, and Kevin Foley was his sponsor.
       * * *
       There were eight people in the RCIA program that year. Most of them were established adults. One pair was a married couple, and one young man in his early twenties was engaged to a Catholic girl. One was a very handsome single man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. The other three were people who were already married to Catholics.
       Justin soon became the darling of that group. The women loved him immediately, and I think the men appreciated his respectful demeanor and his incredible sense of countrified humor. Hal, the thirty-something single man, couldn't take his eyes off him, and he listened to what Justin had to say with the same reverence and awe as the teachers had listened to the boy Jesus in the Temple.
       After the second or third class, Kevin invited me to join him and Jus for dinner.
       "I think you've got an admirer in the class," Kevin said.
       "What are you talking about?" Jus asked.
       "Hal. Don't you have any gaydar at all, Jus? Am I right, Jerry?" Kevin asked.
       "It looks that way to me," I said.
       "So I don't get what you mean," Justin said. "Hal's a nice guy. He and I talked about maybe going hunting this fall."
       "He wants to sleep in your tent, Bubba," Kevin said. "He might want to share a sleeping bag with you."
       "Well, he's shit out of luck," Jus said. "I've had more than my share of those old farts. I got all the boy I ever want, and y'all know it, too."
       "So, do you think you and Brian are going to commit to one another for life?" I asked.
       "Yeah. We already have, Jerry. We haven't had a ceremony yet, but there's never going to be anybody else for either one of us," he said.
       He and Brian were awfully young, but I knew a hundred straight couples who had been together since high school. In fact, my own parents had been high school sweethearts, and I knew it was possible.
       "Well, be nice to Hal, Jus. I think he's very lonely, and I think he has a crush on you," I said.
       "I'll be nice to him, but he's not getting anywhere with me," Jus said.
       "Justin, I've been meaning to ask you this. Why do you want to become a Catholic?" Kevin said. "Is it because Kyle did?"
       "That's a fair question, Kevin. Brian asked me the same thing. And I'll tell you what the reason is, Bubba. Two reasons, in fact," he said.
       "What are they?" I asked.
       "One reason is Kevin Foley, and the other reason is Rick Mashburn," he said.
       He had tears in his eyes, and I could tell it was a very emotional moment for him. I looked at Kevin, and his eyes were weepy, too.
       "I'm not sure those are very good reasons," Kevin said. "We're really not that religious, Bubba."
       "You might not be all that religious, Kev, but I don't know two better people on this fucking earth than you and Rick. I don't know what part being Catholic played in that, but that couldn't have hurt," he said. "I know you don't think I pay attention when Jerry's saying the homily at Mass, but I really do. I know that when he talks about the Christian community and what it's supposed to be, he's really talking about our family. I pretend to be dumb, and I joke around a lot, but I was there from the beginning of that family, almost. I know what happens in that house to boys who need love."
       "Justin, I know what goes on in that house, too, son, and you're absolutely right," I said. "Love goes on in that house, Bubba, and I don't mean physical, sexual love. Although I suspect there's some of that, too."
       Justin and Kevin both laughed at that line.
       "What I see is transforming love. Love that accepts all who present themselves. Love that is unconditional and unlimited. I've been the recipient of that love, and it's made all the difference in my life. Justin, I can't think of a better reason for wanting to be a Christian, a Catholic Christian, than you've just said," I said.
       "This discussion made me feel a hell of a lot better than that hamburger did. I'm needing me a big bowl of ice cream for dessert right about now, though," he said.
       Kevin burst out laughing, and Justin laughed hard, too. I was in the dark.
       "I'm sorry, Jerry, but it's sort of a family joke. Whenever we have an emotional family discussion, or when we're celebrating a family triumph of some kind, we always have banana splits with tons of trimmings. That's what he was talking about," Kevin said.
       "What a great tradition," I said.
       "Yeah, and sometimes one of us gets the banana standing up straight between two big gobs of ice cream covered with coconut hair," Justin said. "That means the one who gets that is the MAN that night."
       "That's funny," I said. "And pretty apropos, given the environment."
       "Y'all, I really do want some ice cream," Justin said.
       All three of us had the biggest confection the Pelican's Post had on their menu.

(Jeff's Perspective)
       My blog, or Weblog, was a lot of fun. I wrote about my daily life as one of four gay men living together as two monogamous couples. I didn't post something every single day, but I averaged five times a week. My regular readership had increased to about a thousand people a day, and I regularly got comments from a number of faithful readers.
       Some of the people who were the most faithful readers and some of my commenters were my brothers, both real, honorary, and in-law. Most of the time they had very funny things to say, especially the Emerald Beach crowd, and I looked forward to their comments as much as I did to writing my stuff. They often corrected details that I had gotten wrong.
       One time Kyle wrote something that was hilarious to us in Emerald Beach because it was an inside family joke, but Josh, my real brother, thought Kyle was criticizing me. Josh felt as though he had to defend me, and he wrote back an angry comment to Kyle.
       "He doesn't really know, does he?" Kyle said about Josh's reply.
       "No, he doesn't. But I'll set him straight, Bubba. Don't worry about that. I thought what you wrote was a scream. He has no idea about our relationship, Kyle. And there's no way he could know," I said.
       "If he keeps doubting how I feel about you, I'm going to need to drive to Jacksonville and kick his ass," Kyle said.
       We were both laughing.
       "Him and his interior-decorating boyfriend," Kyle said.
       Kyle and I were laughing so hard we had to prop each other up physically.
       Later that night I talked to Josh on the phone and straightened it all out with him.
       "Jesus, I feel like a total shit," Josh said. "I guess I forgot that Kyle is Clay's brother. I mean, I knew one of them was, but keeping all those people straight in my mind isn't easy. You might want to consider doing a 'cast' list."
       "That's probably a good idea," I said.
       "I need to apologize to him," Josh said. "What's his email address?"
       I gave it to him, and he must have written a hell of a letter of apology. The next time I saw Kyle, which was just a day or two later, he told me everything was fine with Josh.
       "He got it all wrong, but I'm proud of him for what he did, Jeff. He jumped to your defense, just like a big brother is supposed to," Kyle said.
       "I know. I thought about that aspect of it, too," I said.
       "Damn right," Kyle said. "That boy's stock went way up in my mind when he did that, even though I was going to have to whip his ass over it."
       "Kyle, how many asses have you actually whipped?" I asked.
       He laughed.
       "Not enough," he said.
       "Do you, like, notch the headboard of your bed every time you whip somebody's ass?" I asked.
       "No, but that's a damn good idea," he said. "I need to sharpen my pocketknife," he said.
       "Don't mess up the furniture," I said.
       "I'd never do that, Jeff. Give me a break, man. I'm about ninety-five percent bullshit. I thought you knew that by now," he said. "And so is Justin. I'm an actor, you know? And so is he, even though he's never been in a play."
       "I know, Kyle. It's fun, though, isn't it?"
       "Yeah," he said.
       "Kyle, tell me if I'm wrong about this, okay? Clay didn't have an accent at all. He spoke English the same way I do, and Rick and Brian and Tim do. I think your accent is part of your act, too," I said. "Am I right?"
       I could have counted on one hand the number of times I had seen Kyle blush, but he blushed deeply just then. He was a very cute guy, and the fact that he looked just like the man I had been in love with didn't detract from his appeal.
       "Jeff, when Clay was here in Emerald Beach, he talked the same way I do. I know that when he went to Gainesville and met you, he talked the way you do. And I can talk that way, too, when I want to. As I am right now. But this is a small town, you know? And Clay and I are natives here, from a prominent family, too. I use the Emerald Beach accent to let people here know I'm one of them. I'm not a tourist. I'm not an outsider. I belong here. This is where my roots are. My daddy doesn't talk the same in, say, New York City as he does here. My mother talks the same way all the time because she thinks the Charleston accent is the only way English is supposed to be spoken. They all do in Charleston. I guess because it's such an old city, and all. But, yes, you're right. My accent is part of my persona when I'm here."
       "Kyle, that's amazing. That is an incredible analysis, and I think you're right," I said.
       "Well, the analysis isn't original. I actually learned it in school my junior year. We read the book The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and my teacher did a unit on American dialects, or accents, in connection with that book. Mark Twain makes a big deal about accents in that book. That's where I learned that stuff. But I was switching back and forth in the way I talk long before I learned that. And so was Clay," he said.
       "Kyle, you used the word 'persona' a few minutes ago. Do you know what that word means?" I asked.
       "Yes. It means your mask, the image of yourself you present to others," he said. "I ain't as dumb as I wanna be."
       I laughed with delight.
       "You're something," I said.
       "I know. I'm a bullshit artist," he said.
       "You're an artist, all right, but it's not bullshit. At least not all of it," I said.
       * * *
       In addition to the comments I got on my blog, I also got email from readers. I had no idea of the profile of my "average" reader, and I really didn't care all that much what the profile might look like. I was mainly writing for me and for my extended family, so the "average" reader didn't matter. But I got four or five comments every day, and many of them were from younger readers. Here's an example.

       Hi, Jeff
               Whats up? I'm foreteen and I'm gay. when I read about you're brothers i wish I could be their in that house with them in the wrost way. I get picked on at school, and I need some big brothers to help me out. Nobody but you knows i'm gay. I don't want to be gay, but I can't help it. I hve two little brothers 12 and 10 and the other day the 12 called me a fagot. Please pray for me Jeff and ask your brothers to pray for me to. i'm not going to hurt myself or anything so don't worry about that, but i'm miserbly. thanks for riting you sorty.

                               your friend,
                               Billy

       When I got that, I printed it immediately. I remembered being fourteen and knowing I was gay. I had an older brother, of course, but he had problems of his own to contend with. I wasn't so much picked on as I was ignored by the "popular" crowd. God, my heart ached for Billy.
       "Babe, look at this," I said, presenting the email to Tyler.
       He read it quickly. Then he just looked at me with eyes that enveloped Billy and me in a huge hug.
       "I know," I said. "I know."
       He put his arms around me, and I knew I was safe and secure with the man I loved.
       "What do you write back to something like this?" he asked.
       "I don't know," I said.
       It was a Friday night, and Chuck and Tony were in the living room watching TV. Ty and I were in the "study," also known as the computer room/guest room. We went out there with them.
       "There are ninety-five channels on this fucking cable, and there is almost never anything on worth watching," Chuck said.
       "We've got something here worth reading," Ty said.
       He handed the paper to Chuck, and he and Tony read it together.
       "Oh, my God!" Chuck said. "I'm not believing this."
       "I think it's true," Ty said.
       "Oh, I know it's true," Tony said. "I think he meant he really didn't want to believe it."
       "Exactly," Chuck said. "What can we do?"
       "I don't know," I said. "I'm going to write back to him and tell him we're on his side. I'm going to tell him he's not alone, but that's not much consolation."
       "Can't you just picture him? A sweet little kid, struggling to have friends, to be accepted, to avoid the bullies," Tony said. "Guys, I'm about to lose it right now over this kid."
       He had big tears forming in his eyes. I think that reaction made me love Tony more than I ever had before.
       "When I was his age, I wanted a big brother so bad I could scream," Tony said. "He's not an only child like I was, but it sounds like his little brothers aren't giving him any support at all."
       "What if we all write back to him?" I proposed.
       "Yeah, and we'll get the kids at Kevin and Rick's house to write, too. Do you think they'd do it?" Chuck asked.
       "I don't think there's any question about that, and I think it's a great idea," I said.
       "Any clue about where he lives from his email address?" Chuck asked.
       "No. It's a Yahoo account. I can't even get an IP address from that. If I could, I could pinpoint it," Tony said. "Actually, there is a way to do it, but it's very difficult, and there are legal issues related to privacy involved."
       Suddenly, we heard the front door open.
       "Knock, knock," a voice said.
       The Big Four from North Lagoon Drive came in bearing pizzas. Kyle was carrying four of them, and he had a definite look of urgency on his face. He plopped them on the counter, and he turned to look at us. He had a broad smile.
       "Goddamn, those things are hot," he said. "I about burned my hands off."
       "You wimp," Tyler said, grabbing him in a headlock hug.
       "Get off me, you big brute," Kyle said. Then he and Tyler hugged. We all hugged, in fact.
       "There are four big 'meat lovers' right there," Kyle said. "We knew y'all were all meat lovers, just like us."
       We all laughed at his pun.
       "Dive in, boys," Kyle said. "Justin, where's the beer?"
       "Shit, I'd forget my damn nuts, if they weren't attached," Justin said, and he went back out to retrieve the beer. He brought in two twelve-packs.
       "Kyle, how do you guys buy beer?" Chuck asked.
       "The same way you do. We give the man money," Kyle said.
       "That's not what I mean, and you know it," Chuck said.
       "You don't ask, and we don't tell," Kyle said.
       "You sound like the military," Tyler and Tony said in unison.
       "I know, and we're keeping a military top secret right here in this family," Kyle said.
       We all laughed.
       The pizza was delicious, of course, the beer was ice cold, and the company was the best.
       After we had eaten and sucked down a couple of brews apiece, we got quiet.
       "I want you guys to read something," I said.
       I handed Billy's email to Brian. He read it and handed it to Tim. They both starting crying quietly, trying to conceal their emotions.
       Justin read it next.
       "Read this, Kyle. This is fucking bullshit. We got to save this kid," Justin said.
       Kyle read it.
       "Damn! Don't you just want to grab this kid and hug him?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but how do you do that?" Justin asked.
       "Let's call him," Kyle said.
       "We don't know his last name or where he is," I said.
       "Brian knows how to figure out where he is," Kyle said. "He located Josh, didn't he?"
       "I can't do this one, though, Kyle. Maybe it's possible to get his IP address, but I don't know how to do it," Brian said.
       "It can be done, but it's very complicated," Tony said. "And even if we got the IP address, we still couldn't call him. We don't know his phone number or even his last name."
       "So what do we do? Jerk off in his honor?" Justin asked.
       We all laughed.
       "You write to his ass, that's what you do. That's all we got to go on. This boy is screaming out for support, and we've got to give it to him," Kyle said. "All we can do is write to him, but I think if we all do it, it'll have an impact, maybe."
       "That's what we thought, too," I said.
       "Forward that message to the whole family, Jeff," Kyle said. "We'll make little Billy know he's got brothers in Florida."
       * * *
       In a couple of days, I got another email from Billy.

       hi, jeff
               whats up? I got a ton of emails from all of your brohers saying I'm there brother, to. They said alot more than that, and they made me sore ski high, man. i'm felling so good right now about myself I can't stand it. Thank you so mch. i love you jeff and i love all those boys there with you. they said they wold keep writing to me, and i think they will. Thank you so much. i love you.
                                                   Billy

       I showed that email to Tyler, and to Chuck and Tony.
       "Emerald Beach is slowly seeping across the country," Chuck said. "If he knew what it was like in that house, he would haul ass to get there."
       "I know," I said.
       A few days later, I got another email that disturbed me.

       Dear Jeff,
               I've been reading your blog for several months. I mean, I found it about a month ago, and I read all the archives. And I've been keeping up day by day since then. I'm fifteen years old, I live in Virginia, and I'm gay. My mom and dad found out I was gay about two months ago when a boy I thought I could trust told his parents what I had told him about my feelings for him. Since then, my life has been hell. I made a botched attempt at suicide, but obviously I survived. I learned from that mistake, though, and I now know how to do it for real. I don't want to, though. I want to come to Emerald Beach and live with you and Kevin and Rick and the rest. I want to live. Please say it's okay for me to come there. Please write back to me. PLEASE!
               I love you.
                                       Your Brother,
                                       Sean Kelly

       When I read that, my insides turned to water. My first impulse was to delete the whole blog from the Internet. I wasn't a counselor, and I didn't need to be in this kind of business. I wasn't ready for this kind of stuff, and I didn't think I'd ever be ready for it.
       I sat at the computer for a long time, staring at the letter. Chuck came into the room.
       "What's wrong, Jeff?" he asked.
       "Read what's on the screen," I said.
       He read it.
       "Wow! That's pretty heavy stuff," he said.
       "I know. What am I supposed to do, Chuck?"
       "I don't know, but print a bunch of copies of it so we can talk about it," Chuck said.
       I printed ten copies of the letter. I gave one to Tyler to read when he came home.
       "Wow! This is much more serious than Billy's letter, isn't it? I mean, this kid is smart. There aren't any mistakes or typos or anything. He probably really does know how to do it," Ty said.
       "I know. Babe, I've created a monster with that fucking blog. I hate it. I want to delete the whole fucking thing," I said.
       "Jeff. No. You've created an angel, not a monster. Don't you see? That blog has given him hope. It's given him a place to turn to. He wouldn't have had that without your blog. Now we have to figure out what to do about it," Ty said.
       He was right. I was overwrought, and he helped me see more clearly. I put my head on his shoulder, and I hugged him to me.
       "We're going to wait for Tony to get home, and then we're going to go to Kevin and Rick's house to talk about this. This thing belongs to the whole family, not just to you," he said.
       "I can't tell you how much I love you," I said.
       "I think you just did, Jeff. And I love you that much, too," he said.
       We stopped and got subs on the way to Kevin and Rick's house. We got enough for them, too, and those boys tore into them. I knew they had plenty of food in that house at all times, and I also knew those boys had already had a snack that night. But you can't put a Subway sandwich in front of a boy and him not want to eat it. The exception was Murray. He had it almost to his mouth, and Kyle took it away from him.
       "It's just turkey, Kyle," Murray whined.
       "I know, but it's turkey and bread and mayonnaise and shit you can't have, if you expect to lose weight. Let me get you some tomato juice, real spicy. It'll satisfy you," Kyle said.
       "You really care about me, don't you?" Murray said.
       "Fuck, yeah, I care about you, you little fat-ass queer," Kyle said.
       Murray and Kyle grinned at each other the way brothers do when one is taking care of the other. Kyle came back into the room in a few minutes with a huge glass of tomato juice with two stalks of celery, three stalks of pickled asparagus, and two pickled green beans. I figured he had dumped enough Tabasco sauce into that drink to see Murray through the next two bowel movements.
       "What's up, guys?" Kevin said when we had finished eating.
       "Kevin, it's something pretty serious," I said.
       I told him about the letter, and I passed out copies for the others to read. Everybody was dead quiet, and I knew the letter was having an effect on them.
       "Is he going to come live with us?" Denny asked.
       "I don't see that happening," Kevin said. "Not that we wouldn't want him, but he's in another state. His parents would have to voluntarily relinquish custody of him to us. What do you think, Babe?"
       "I think you're right, Babe. Like you, I want to help him, but I don't think we can take in kids from all over the place, especially without going through Tyrone Williams and the Children and Family Services Department," Rick said. "Maybe we could tell him to call us collect."
       "That's a start," Kevin said.
       "We took in Alex when he ran away and just showed up here," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but what's the difference between Alex and Sean?" Kevin asked.
       "I don't know. Alex is cut and Sean's uncut?" Kyle asked.
       We all laughed.
       "Kyle, that was funny, but let's keep this serious, okay, Bubba?" Rick said.
       "I'm sorry," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, the difference is the age. Alex was legally an adult, and this boy isn't," Kevin said. "If he were eighteen, we'd send him bus fare, but he's only fifteen. We can't encourage him to run away to come here. We'd get in so much trouble if we did that we'd probably never see any of you again."
       "This age shit is a pain in the ass," Kyle said.
       "Well, maybe so, but it's the law, whether we like it or not," Kevin said. "Here's what I suggest we do. Jeff, write back to him and ask him to call us. Make sure you print a copy of every email contact you have with him, and keep them on file. If anything comes up about our trying to lure the boy away from home, we need to have that as back-up."
       "Okay. I had already thought I would do that," I said. "Whose number do I give him? Mine?"
       "Yes. Give him your cell number, and tell him that's what it is. Tell him you showed his letter to all of us and that Rick and I want to talk to him. He obviously knows who we are, but he might be reluctant to call one of us without talking to you first. Don't say anything about it being unlikely that he'll get to come live here. That seems to be a ray of hope in his life right now, and we damn sure don't want to dim that ray," Kevin said.
       "Let me write the letter here, and I want you all to read it before I send it," I said.
       "That's a good idea," Rick said.
       I went into the study to write a response.

       Dear Sean,
               I am really sorry to hear about what happened to you because of your friend. That shouldn't happen to anybody. When I got your letter, I knew I had to share it with Kevin, Rick, and the other guys here. I printed it out and took it to Kevin and Rick's house. We talked about it, and we agreed we all want to help you out somehow. I would like to talk to you on the phone. Please call my cell phone number collect so you and I can talk. I'm going to keep my phone turned on and with me at all times. The number is 555-850-1621. Call me as soon as you can.
                                   Love,
                                   Jeff Martin

       I called the guys into the study to read the letter.
       "I think it's good," Kevin said.
       "So do I," Rick agreed. "Have you printed it?"
       "Not yet," I said. I clicked on the "print" button, and the printer started up. After it was printed, I hit the "send" button.
       "I guess there's nothing to do now but wait," Rick said.
       "Kevin, when he calls me, I'll put us on a three-way call after I make sure he's comfortable with that, okay?" I said.
       "That's a good idea. I hadn't thought of that," Kevin said.
       "This boy knows his technology," Tyler said, grinning at me.
       "I've got school work to do tonight," I said, "so I need to get on back home."
       "Okay, guys. Let's keep our fingers crossed we can work something out," Kevin said.
       I stayed up much later than usual that night, waiting for Sean to call. I checked my email every half hour or so, too, just in case he decided to respond that way. Nothing. My precious angel stayed in the room with me, studying on the guest bed while I used the desk. Eventually, he pulled down the covers on the bed, took off his shoes and shorts, and got in. He went to sleep in a few minutes. Instead of waking him up to go to our own bed, I got undressed and crawled in with him.
       * * *
       Sean didn't call that night, and there wasn't any email from him the next morning. I kept my phone with me hooked to my belt all day long. I went to class at FSU, and then I went to work, as usual. That night I haunted my email in-box, but nothing from Sean. My phone didn't ring, either.
       The second day was a repeat of the first.
       "I sure wish he'd call," I said to the Townhouse Boys.
       "Maybe no news is good news," Tony said.
       "Maybe. I sure hope so," I said.
       We went through the third day, and, once again, there was no contact from Sean, either on the phone or through email. I wrote to him again to say that I was waiting to hear from him. If he had gotten scared, he needed to know that I was serious in what I had said.
       In the evening of the third day, my phone rang as we were watching TV. I snatched it from my belt so fast that I dropped it. I checked the number, and it was Kyle.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hey. Did he call yet?"
       "Not yet. And if he's trying to call right this minute, he's going to be shit out of luck, isn't he?" I said.
       "Don't you have Call Waiting?" he asked.
       "Yeah. I forgot about that," I said.
       "Use the ole noggin, Bubba. That's what you've got it for. It's not just for Tyler to stick his dick in, you know?"
       I started laughing.
       "You are such a little shithead," I said.
       "Yeah, but I'm a cute little shithead, ain't I?" he said.
       "Yes, Kyle, you are. And such a modest little shithead," I said, and that made him laugh, too.
       "Well, I don't want to tie the line up any more. You might forget again that you have Call Waiting and not answer it if it rings," he said.
       "Go to bed, Kyle," I said. "Thanks for calling, and I love you, Bubba."
       "I love you, too. 'Bye."
       "I take it Kyle was calling to see if Sean had called," Chuck said.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "What was so funny?" Ty asked.
       "He told me to use my noggin. That's what I have it for, not just for you to stick your dick in," I said.
       My housemates laughed.
       "He is a little shithead," Ty said.
       "Yeah, but a cute one, he reminded me," I said. They laughed some more.
       * * *
       By the fourth day, I had given up on Sean calling. I hoped his initial email was something he had written during a panic attack and that things had improved.
       That afternoon I was working the front desk with Stephen. Justin and I basically shared half of a job now, instead of sharing a whole job as we had before. I was in the office working the on-line registrations, and Stephen was out front.
       "Jeff, there's somebody out here to see you," Stephen said.
       "Who is it? Is it one of my brothers?" I asked.
       "No. I don't know who it is," Stephen said.
       I went out front, and there was a kid standing at the desk. He was stunningly good looking, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a very nice haircut. His clothes were rumbled, but they were nice. He was definitely preppy.
       "What can I do for you?" I asked.
       "Jeff?"
       "Yes," I said.
       "I'm Sean Kelly," he said.

Chapter 09

(Ken's Perspective)
       I ended up taking a full week off because of my black eye. With Kevin and Rick's encouragement, I went to the local walk-in clinic to have the doctor look at it. He checked to see if there were any broken bones, and there weren't any. The swelling had gone down completely, and he told me to use hot compresses to get the blood flowing in that area of my face more than it would naturally. He said there was nothing he could prescribe to make it go away faster and that bruises just had to fade naturally. He didn't ask me how I got the black eye, and I was very glad of that.
       During the time I was off and staying at Kevin and Rick's house, I did a whole lot of thinking. I had known I was gay since I was thirteen, and I knew that wasn't going to change. Being around those guys on North Lagoon Drive sort of inspired me to take my destiny into my own hands. I knew that in them I had friends I could count on, no matter what happened, and I grew more and more determined to come out. The first step, and probably the most difficult one, would have to be my parents.
       My parents really weren't overt homophobes because in their world homosexuality didn't exist. They owned a dry cleaning business, and they both worked hard in it. It did well, although it tended to be a bit seasonal. In the summer, men wore fewer dress shirts and more casual slacks that could be washed at home than they did in the fall, winter, and spring. Business wasn't really bad in the summer; it just wasn't as good as it was the rest of the year.
       Dad belonged to the Chamber of Commerce and the Lions Club, and Mom was active in the Ladies' Missionary Circle at the church. She had been a Brownie leader and a Girl Scout leader when my younger sister was involved in those activities, and more than once our yard had been proclaimed "Yard of the Month" by our neighborhood association. We were a rock-solid family, and we were definitely not the kind who produced a gay son.
       "Your face is looking a lot better, Ken," Rick said on Thursday night.
       "Are you telling me it's time for me to get my ass back to work?" I joked.
       He laughed.
       "No, I think one more day, plus the weekend, and it'll be as good as new," he said.
       It was just Kevin, Rick, and I in the den. The kids were home, I think--most of them, at least--but they must have been in their rooms studying for Friday tests.
       "This has been an incredible week for me," I said. "I can't thank you guys enough."
       "It's been great having you here, but you're not getting ready to move back home, are you?" Kevin asked. "We thought you were going to stay here until you found a place of your own."
       "That's my plan, if that's still okay," I said.
       "Of course it is," he said.
       "What I meant when I said this week has been incredible is I've grown so much in self-acceptance since I've been here. I've seen the way you two live your lives, and I've seen how happy and how much in love the two of you are. I've also seen the boys, and those guys are incredible. You have so much to be proud of," I said.
       They looked at each other and smiled.
       "Thanks, Ken. We are proud," Rick said.
       "I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I've decided it's time for me to come out," I said.
       They didn't really respond, and I really didn't expect them to.
       "That's a big step. Are you sure you're ready for that?" Kevin asked.
       "Yeah, I'm ready." I said. "As long as I know y'all are behind me."
       "Well, we're behind you," Rick said.
       "Thanks. I thought I knew that, but I wanted to hear it," I said.
       * * *
       My parents lived quite a distance from North Lagoon Drive. In fact, it was clear across town. Driving there on Saturday morning took me a good forty-five minutes, and several times I was within a hair's breadth of turning back. I didn't, though.
       My dad was in the front yard on his riding lawnmower when I drove up. I honked the horn to catch his attention, and he grinned and waved at me when he realized who it was. He cut off the mower and came over to the car. He shook hands with me when I got out, and then he hugged me.
       "Hi, stranger. It's good to see you, son," he said.
       "It's good to see you, too, Dad," I said.
       "Are you back for good?"
       "No, sir. I came to get my stuff," I said. "I won't be coming back, Dad."
       He didn't respond except to smile, but I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking I had spent the previous week with my wife and that she and I had been reconciled. I didn't say anything.
       When we went inside, my mom was watching the Home and Garden Network on TV. They kept that on constantly on Saturdays. She jumped up when she realized it was me, and she grabbed me in a big hug. She kissed my cheek hard, like I had been gone years.
       "Did you have breakfast?" she asked.
       "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Can we turn off the TV so we can talk?"
       "Of course," she said, and she hit the "power" button on the remote.
       "I hope you're here with some good news," she said, all pert and cute.
       "Well, I've got news, but I'm not sure you'll necessarily think it's all that good," I said.
       "Dad and I have assumed you've been at your apartment with Carolyn," she said.
       "No, ma'am, I haven't been. I've been staying with some friends on the beach. Some gay friends, Mom," I said.
       "I don't understand," she said.
       "I do," my father said immediately. "Kenny, it's okay."
       I felt a sudden calmness come over me. He said it was okay! He knows what I'm talking about, and it's okay!
       "What's okay? What do you understand that I don't?" she asked.
       "Kenny is telling us he's gay, Sweetie. It's something you and I have talked about a hundred times," he said.
       "Oh," she said.
       "Are you disappointed in me?" I asked.
       "Son, the only time you have ever disappointed me was when you married Carolyn. We knew that wasn't going to work. We couldn't tell you that, of course, but we knew you weren't in love with her. You're in love with Wayne, aren't you?"
       When he said that, my stomach hit the floor.
       "Was I that obvious?" I asked.
       "Obvious? That's a pretty relative concept. No. People seeing you guys together would never have known. But parents know their children, son. And brothers know their brothers," Dad said.
       "Does he know, too?" I asked.
       "Your brother has suspected that you and Wayne are gay--and in love with each other--for a long, long time. Has he never said anything to you about it?" Dad asked.
       "No, sir. He hasn't," I said.
       "That's because he loves and respects you. Both you and Wayne," he said.
       "Dad, Wayne's not gay," I said.
       "Did he tell you that?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir, in no uncertain terms," I said.
       "All of us might be wrong, but you thought he was gay, didn't you?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       "Wayne's still got some growing up to do," he said. "Your mother and I are proud of you, Ken. Now you can get on with your life as who you really are. By the way, who are these gay friends you've been staying with?"
       "Kevin Foley and Rick Mashburn. They're the two Executive Vice Presidents of Goodson Enterprises, and they're wonderful. They run a foster home for gay boys, and other gay boys live there, too. One of the other boys living there is Kyle Goodson, Mister Goodson's son," I said.
       "Gene Goodson has a gay son? I guess we're in pretty good company," he said to my mom.
       "Dad, Mister Goodson had two gay sons. Clay, the older one, died in some kind of freak medical accident in Gainesville," I said.
       "And Gene Goodson is okay with his son being gay?" Dad asked.
       "I haven't met Mister Goodson, but evidently he is. Kyle has had the same boyfriend for two-and-a-half years, and those boys are so much in love," I said.
       "How old is Kyle?"
       "He's eighteen. He was president of the Student Government Association at Beachside High School last year, and he was totally out when he ran for office," I said.
       "Are these boys, er, . . . "
       "Effeminate? Not a bit. Dad, there's one in the house who is, but he's the exception. That effeminacy thing is a stereotype. Most of the guys in that house are every bit as masculine as I am, and Kyle and another guy, named Justin, are probably more masculine than me," I said.
       "You don't see that on TV, do you?" he said.
       "Dad, these are just ordinary guys. Some of them hate sports, and some of them love sports. I've watched more baseball this past week than I have in my whole life before now. One day I hope you can meet them because they'll change everything you ever thought about gay men," I said. "They did me, and I'm one of them."
       My parents both chuckled.
       "So, what happens next?" Mom asked.
       "Mom, I want to get my clothes and other stuff. I'm going to go back out to Kevin and Rick's, and, as soon as I can, I'm going to get my own place," I said. "I'm not living in the closet anymore. In time, people will forget that Carolyn and I were ever married. She'll find some straight guy who will love her and care for her. I'm not worried about that."
       "Did you ever love her, son?" Dad asked.
       "Dad, I love Carolyn to this very minute. I hope we can be friends for the rest of our lives. But that's all we ever were. Friends," I said.
       "You don't have to answer this, but it's something Mom and I are both curious about. Was there ever any sex between you two?"
       "Yes there was," I said.
       "Is that what made you know you were gay?" he asked.
       "No, Dad. I've known since I was thirteen. That's what made me know I couldn't be married," I said.
       * * *
       Mom and Dad both went to Popeye's to get fried chicken and other stuff for us to eat for lunch. I was sure they wanted some time together. I went back to my room and got busy packing. I felt so light, so free, so incredibly good that I can't even explain it. I basically just packed up my clothes, my CD's, a few DVD's, and small stuff. I'd wait until I had a place before I came back for the rest.
       Lunch was good. We didn't talk about me. We talked about relatives, especially my brother and sister, items in the local news, my job, their business. Just stuff you talk about.
       I wasn't ready to leave until around four. Dad helped me carry my stuff out to my car. We had a time fitting it all in, but eventually we did. Mom came out to tell me goodbye.
       "Ken, I gave birth to you many years ago, but today I feel like I've given birth to the real you. Thank you for trusting us, son. We love you," she said.
       She was crying a bit as she kissed me on the cheek.
       "You'll be over some, won't you?" Dad asked, as he pumped my hand.
       "Of course I will," I said. "I'm not turning into Queer as Folk. I'm the same son you've always had, only now you know."
       "Now we know for sure," Dad said. "Now we all know."
       "Yeah, I guess that's right," I said. "'Bye. I love you both more than I can say."
       "We love you, too, Kenny," Mom said
       "He wants to be called 'Ken,' not 'Kenny,'" Dad said.
       "I always want to be called 'Kenny' by you," I said. "I love you."
       * * *
       My life had made a sea change that day, but back on North Lagoon Drive things were as they always were. Kevin and Rick went to Mass that night, and we all went with them. We went out to eat at the same bar and grill they always went to. It was my first time there, and the atmosphere there was totally friendly and open. We had two waiters because we were such a large party, but they were ready for us. If those waiter boys weren't gay, then I didn't have any gaydar at all.
       Kyle told us about SCUBA diving and getting a mess of lobsters for us.
       "I took my first underwater pictures today," Kyle said.
       "Cool. Did you get some good ones?" Rick asked.
       "I think I got some very good ones of Philip," he said. "I need to go to the Caribbean to get good ones of fish," he said.
       "I can go to the Caribbean," Tim said.
       We all chuckled.
       "We're all going there eventually, that's for sure. The problem is finding the time. I said it before, and I'll say it again. School takes up too much fucking time," Kyle said. "It's way too confining."
       "I've learned more on the trips we've gone on than in school," Justin said.
       "See, that's what I mean," Kyle said.
       "You guys have been on some fabulous trips, and I have absolutely no doubt that you have learned a lot from your travels. The thing is, school gives you a much more complete picture of it all. I mean, take a history course, for example. Sure, you learn about the American Revolution when you go to Boston, but do you get the whole deal? Why it happened? What happened after the Revolution? Bits and pieces of it happened in different places. You need somebody to tie all that stuff together. That's what a real education is all about, guys," Kevin said.
       "Kevin, what kind of education do I need?" Kyle asked. "Tim and I might not want to come back here, you know? Has anybody ever thought about that? I know I'm going to inherit whatever my parents have to leave, but that's forty years from now. How old are we going to be then? Fifty-eight, sixty?"
       "Kyle, believe it or not, your dad and I have talked about that. He knows that you and Tim have to find your own way in the world. He respects that, Kyle," Kevin said.
       "Hold up. Wait a minute, here," Justin said. "Ain't you and me going to be partners, Kyle? That's what we've been saying, man, ain't it?"
       "That's what I want, Bubba. You know that, but there's no way in hell I'm going to insist we come back here if Tim gets some fabulous opportunity somewhere else. And you know the same damn thing is true for you and Brian," Kyle said.
       "I don't want to talk about this," Justin said.
       "And we don't have to right now. All I'm telling you is, nothing on this fucking earth is as important to me as this boy right here," Kyle said. "And I'm not going to make him give up his life so I can be some big shot in this one-horse town."
       "This isn't a one-horse town, Kyle," Justin said.
       "Maybe not, but it is compared to Los Angeles or New York or lots of other places, too," Kyle said.
       "Tim, what do you say?" Rick asked.
       "I say that Kyle and I will make our decisions together, as a couple, when the time comes. I haven't even graduated from high school yet. My God!" Tim said.
       I decided to change the subject.
       "By the way, guys, I came out to my parents today," I said.
       There was dead silence at the table when I said that.
       "What happened?" Brian asked.
       "They were okay with it. Evidently, they had suspected I was gay for a long time, and my dad and my brother thought Wayne and I were in love with each other," I said.
       "Is Wayne the one that popped you?" Kyle asked.
       "Yes," I said softly.
       "Are you in love with him?" Justin asked.
       "Yes, even after what he did. But if Wayne is gay, he's so deep in denial that there could never be anything between us," I said.
       "It's great about you coming out, but it's too bad about Wayne," Kevin said.
       "They got some cute little waiter boys around here," Justin said. "You might want to ask one of them out tonight. In fact, ask him out before he brings the check. He might put it on the house, if you do."
       We laughed.
       "I want to date, but I'm brand new to all of this," I said. "My wife, Carolyn, and I have been together since right after I graduated from high school. She's really the only girl I ever dated, and I haven't dated any guys."
       "You can take your time," Rick said. "Hell, there are some in your department, aren't there, Tony?"
       "You mean besides him and me?" Tony asked.
       "I mean, I could be wrong, but I don't think I am," Rick said.
       "Oh, I know who you're talking about," Tony said. "Yeah, and he seems like a really nice guy."
       "I can name four, not including these two," Kevin said.
       "Oh, yeah," Rick said.
       God, I wish you would name them, I thought. I couldn't believe I hadn't picked up on something, at least.
       "Tell us who they are," Kyle said.
       "Why do you care?" Kevin asked him.
       "I don't, but he does," Kyle said, indicating me.
       "All Ken has to do is casually mention to one or two people that he came out to his parents this weekend, and I guarantee that everybody in IS will know it by the end of the day. By the end of the week, he'll know exactly who the gay ones are," Rick said.
       "Should I do that?" I asked.
       "If you want to be fully out, that's about the only way to do it," Jeff said. "And guys won't approach you until you're fully out."
       "They won't?" I asked. I felt rather naive. Probably because I was.
       "You've been married. You still are, in fact, legally. Guys who might suspect you're gay won't come on to you because of that," Jeff said. "I know I wouldn't."
       The others agreed that they wouldn't, either, under those circumstances.
       I had a lot to think about after that discussion. I knew they were right, and I really did want to start dating. I wanted to find somebody like them, somebody who shared my values and whom I could love the way they each loved their partners. I felt as though I was starting the adventure of life.

(Jeff's Perspective)
       Hearing that kid say he was Sean Kelly made me weak.
       "How did you get here?" I asked.
       "Greyhound," he said. "It took forever. I left the day before yesterday."
       It was pretty obvious he had been in those clothes that long. His hair was dark, and he had a fine shadow of beard all over his face. The Sean Kelly I had written to had said he was fifteen. That guy looked twenty, or older.
       "How old are you?" I asked.
       "I'm fifteen. Almost sixteen. I know I look older than that, though," he said.
       "Yeah, you look like you could be much older than that. Twenty. Twenty-five, even," I said.
       "Come on. Not that old, huh?"
       He had a captivating smile. He was very masculine acting, and he seemed very self-assured. I didn't know what to do. I still had two more hours of my shift, and I knew Stephen would be supremely pissed off if I asked him to cover the whole desk by himself.
       "Stephen, I'm taking my break," I said.
       "Okay. Who's the new friend? He's a hottie," Stephen said with a lurid grin.
       Stephen was so gay. He wasn't particularly effeminate, but he turned everything into a sexual situation. At first I had been put off by Stephen, as Kyle, Justin, and Tim had been. Now, we liked him a lot and considered him a good friend.
       "Yes, he is," I said. "I plan to ply him with coffee and get him into the backseat of my car."
       "You devil. Does that mean Tyler's now available?"
       "If you touch Tyler, I'll get Kyle and Justin to wear your ass out," I said.
       "Oh, my God, Jeff. I'm going to have an orgasm just from the thought of that," he said.
       I laughed.
       "I'll be back in a few minutes," I said.
       "Take your time. It might require two cups of coffee," he said.
       I took Sean to the employees' lounge.
       "Would you like some coffee?" I asked.
       "I'd love some," he said. "Is it okay to smoke in here?"
       "Yeah. Just don't blow it in my direction," I said.
       He lit up, and I put a cup of coffee down in front of him.
       "So, talk to me," I said.
       "Well, where do I begin? I got your email, and I was going to call you. I got it at school, actually, and I didn't have my phone with me. I was going to call as soon as I got home, but the wrath of God was waiting for me when I got there. I had ordered a couple of gay porn DVD's, and they had come in that day. My mother opened them. She called my father, and they were waiting there for me. It got pretty ugly," he said.
       "Did they hit you or anything?" I asked.
       "Oh, no. They would never lower themselves to that. We're upper-middle class, after all," he said ironically. "No, they wanted us to engage in 'dialogue.' Actually, they wanted to engage in monologue, and I was to be the audience," he said. "For--oh, I don't know--seven hours, let's say?"
       "Shit," I said.
       "Oh, yeah. Shit is right," he said.
       He was obviously extremely intelligent and very articulate. On the sophistication scale, this was no Justin Davis or Kyle Goodson I was dealing with. This kid was slick.
       "What did you do? Just sit there and listen?" I asked.
       "I sat there, certainly, but I'm not sure how much I listened. Something they commented on several times, by the way. Jeff, they simply will not take me seriously. They tell me I'm not gay. I tell them I've got the condoms to prove it. They say it's a normal adolescent flirtation with homosexuality that I'll outgrow. I say it's the way I am. I had been dating this boy for about a month. They said I was to have nothing more to do with him, and they got a court restraining order against him. I wasn't in love with Jared, but, damn it, I should be able to choose who I date," he said.
       "How old is Jared?" I asked.
       "He's twenty-one," he said.
       Wow, that's quite an age difference, I thought.
       "I need to make a couple of phone calls, okay?" I said.
       "Sure," he said. "I guess my showing up here was a bit of a surprise."
       "Yeah, it was."
       I called Justin's cell phone number, but I got his voice mail.
       Shit, I thought.
       Then I called the main house number, and Kyle answered.
       "Hello," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, it's me. Is Justin home?"
       "Hey, Jeff. What's going on, Bubba?" Kyle said.
       "A lot. I want to talk to Justin," I said.
       "You don't want to talk to me? That hurts my feelings, Jeff. As much as I care about you," he said.
       "Kyle, you are a total shithead. Get Justin on the phone," I demanded.
       Kyle burst out laughing.
       "Okay, let me find him. I think he's working out," he said. "I'm moving toward the French doors to the patio. I'm turning the handle and opening the door. I'm stepping out onto the patio right now, headed toward the clubhouse. Nobody is in the pool or on the patio. The dogs are with me."
       He was whispering like he was broadcasting a golf game, and I was laughing.
       "I'm opening the door of the weight room in the clubhouse. I'm greeted by the acrid aroma of male sweat, and I immediately develop an erection. I spot Justin across the room. He's nude, and his short arm is rampant. I'm approaching him from the rear. He hasn't spotted me yet, and the music is so loud he can't even hear me talking to you. I move up behind him, and I scream 'BOO!!!'"
       "Jesus Christ! You scared the fucking shit out of me, man. Don't ever do that again. I could have dropped this fucking thing down on my neck and died," he shouted. "I could have broken my Adam's Apple."
       "If you had done that, we could have had Adam's Apple sauce," Kyle said. "I ain't never had that before."
       I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
       "It's for you," he said.
       "Who is it?" Justin asked, still obviously pissed off at Kyle.
       "It's Jeff," Kyle said.
       "Turn that music down, Kyle," Justin said.
       "Do you know what he just did to me?" Justin said when he took the phone.
       "Yeah, I heard every word of it," I said.
       "Why are you laughing? It ain't funny," he said.
       "Yes, it is," I said. "And you know it."
       "Well, it might be a little bit funny," he said.
       "Are you nude with your short arm rampant?" I asked.
       There was a longish pause.
       "Jeff, if this is phone sex, I need some time to get cleaned up, Bubba," he said.
       I was laughing so hard tears were streaming down my face.
       "Are you nude with a rampant short arm?" I asked.
       "No, I've got on gym shorts, and I'm soft as a down pillow," he said. "I know you don't want phone sex. What do you want?"
       "I want you to come and work the rest of my shift for me. I'll pay you back. I promise," I said.
       "All right. What's going on?" he asked.
       "Sean Kelly's here," I said.
       "The guy in Virginia that we've been worrying about?" he asked.
       "Yeah, only he's not in Virginia. He's here," I said.
       "I'm totally nasty right now, but I'll be there as fast as I can. In fact, I'm going to make Goodson go in until I can get there. He owes me," Justin said.
       "Okay. Thanks a lot, Jus," I said.
       "No thanks about it. That's just the way we do. 'Bye. Let me go shower and get dressed," he said.
       "It sounded like you were having quite a good time," Sean said.
       "Yeah, well, it was Kyle and Justin. They always make us laugh," I said.
       "I can't wait to meet them," he said.
       "Look, Justin is coming to take my place, but he's sending Kyle over here until he can get showered and dressed," I said. "You wait in here, okay? Do you have money for the vending machine?"
       "Yeah," he said. "I'll be okay."
       I went back out to the desk.
       "Well, I see there's no assignation in progress," Stephen said.
       "No. Justin's coming in to work out the rest of my shift, but Kyle will be here in a few minutes to give Justin time to clean up and get dressed," I said.
       "Where are you going?" Stephen asked.
       "I need to go see Kevin and Rick. This is family business," I said.
       "Oh, 'family' business. I'm surprised you're not driving over to Destin to see Old Man Goodson," he said.
       "'Old Man Goodson?'" I asked.
       "Well 'young-looking-middle-aged-Goodson' then," he said.
       "That's better," I said, and we both laughed.
       Kyle walked in just then.
       "Damn, you got here fast," I said. He was in shorts and a polo shirt, but that would have to do.
       "Speed limits don't apply in an emergency. Where is he?"
       "He's in the lounge," I said.
       Kyle started walking toward the lounge, and I caught up with him. He walked into the lounge right before me. Sean was sitting at the same table, smoking and reading the newspaper.
       "Hi, I'm Kyle Goodson, and you must be Sean," Kyle said.
       Sean got a bright smile on his face as he looked up from the paper. He stood and approached Kyle. They shook hands.
       "It's good to meet you. I feel as though I know you," Sean said.
       "From what Jeff's written?" Kyle asked. Not a trace of an accent.
       "Yeah," he said.
       "I think Jeff writes very well, and I also think he really captures us pretty accurately," Kyle said.
       "I expected you to have an accent. You look about like what I expected, but you don't talk like it," Sean said.
       "I really do talk the way you think I do. I just didn't know you just now, so I wanted to sound good," Kyle said.
       "That's the accent I expected to hear," Sean said. He was grinning.
       "Well, y'all need to get your asses over to see Kevin and Rick, and I need to get my ass out there to pester Stephen a little bit," Kyle said.
       "Be nice to Stephen, Kyle," I said.
       "I'm just going to tease him in fun. I like that guy," Kyle said.
       "I know. Let's go, Sean. Do you have bags or anything?" I asked.
       "Yeah. I left them in the lobby," he said.
       We recovered his bags and left for the Goodson Building.
       * * *
       I had been to the Goodson Building a bunch of times with Kyle, to use the machines they had there, but I had only been one time during the business day. That was the day I did my personnel work for my job. We went up to the fifth floor where Kevin and Rick had their offices. I followed the signs that pointed the way to where they were.
       I found the office that had Kevin's name on it. I opened the door, and I was instantly greeted.
       "Hi, may I help you?"
       It was Kevin's secretary, Mary Ann Pennington. I had heard her praises sung many times.
       "I'm Jeff Martin, and I wondered if I could see Mr. Foley," I said.
       She thought for a moment.
       "You're Jeff? Oh, my God! I know who you are," she said. "You're one of them!"
       I didn't know what that meant, exactly, but she was obviously friendly. She got up and came around her desk. She extended her hand to shake mine, and we did.
       "You know who I am?" I asked.
       "Of course. I know who all of Kevin and Rick's family are," she said. "They talk about you guys all the time."
       "This is Sean Kelly," I said. "I know I should have called, but it's kind of sudden."
       "Have a seat, fellows. Kevin and Rick are both in there with Tony Miller, our Information Services director. You work for Goodson, don't you, Jeff?"
       "Yes, ma'am," I said. "I'm a desk clerk at the Laguna."
       "And you and Clay . . . "
       "Yes, ma'am," I said.
       "So, you're really Goodson family, not just Foley-Mashburn family," she said.
       "Yeah, I guess I am," I said.
       The door opened just then, and Kevin, Rick, and Tony were laughing as they were coming out.
       "Jeff! What are you doing here, man?" Rick said when he saw me.
       "I'm here to talk to you and Kevin. I realize I should have made an appointment, but I've got Sean Kelly with me," I said.
       "Oh," Rick said. "Back it up, Tony."
       They went back into Kevin's office, and Sean and I followed.
       "Can we have some refreshments, please," Kevin said to Mary Ann before he went in.
       "Yes, sir," she said.
       "Kevin, Rick, Tony. This is Sean Kelly," I said, and they all shook hands.
       "Have a seat, guys," Kevin said. "When did you get in, Sean?"
       "A couple of hours ago. I know this is cheeky of me, but I had to leave where I was," he said.
       "No, you're welcome," Rick said. "I don't know if you'll be able to stay, but we'll work on that."
       "We all read your letter to Jeff. Did you ever call him?" Tony asked.
       "You read it?" Sean asked.
       "Tony is Chuck's boyfriend, and Chuck is part of the brotherhood. So that means Tony is, too," I said.
       "Oh," Sean said. "No. I wanted to, but things got out of hand. So I just left."
       "Do your parents know where you are?" Kevin asked.
       "No," Sean said.
       "Well, before we say another word, you're calling them right now and letting them know you're safe," Kevin said.
       Sean got a pained look on his face.
       "I mean it, Sean, or we're not talking to you for another minute," Kevin said.
       There was a long silence.
       "Okay," Sean finally said.
       Kevin handed him his phone, and he punched in the number. There was a long pause, like maybe an answering machine kicked in.
       "Mom and Dad, this is Sean. I want you to know I'm safe and doing well. I'm where I belong. 'Bye."
       "That was awfully quick," Rick said.
       "Yeah, but that's the way it is with them," he said. "Besides, it was just the machine."
       Kevin and Rick had pained looks on their faces.
       "So. Sean. You present us with a legal problem," Kevin said.
       "How so?" Sean asked.
       "Well, you're a minor and a runaway," he said. "We need to deal with that."
       "I'm only a minor by age," Sean said.
       "Yeah, I know. That's kind of the definition of 'minor,' though," Kevin said. "And it's kind of the definition of 'runaway,' too."
       "Are you saying you're not going to shelter me?" Sean asked.
       "No, we didn't say that. But Sean, we're only going to do what's legal. We're not going to jeopardize what we've got going with the other boys for you, son. That can't happen," Rick said.
       "But it's so beautiful here. I heard Jeff talking on the phone to Kyle and Justin a little while ago, and they were all laughing. That's all I want. A little fun and a little laughter in life," Sean said.
       The four Emerald Beach guys in that room were quiet. I knew all of us wanted that kid to be happy, and we all knew he could be very happy on North Lagoon Drive. But Rick was absolutely right. They couldn't jeopardize what they were doing just for him.
       It was almost four o'clock, and the guys would be home from school by then.
       "Let's go home," Kevin said.
       And we did.

Chapter 10

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Kyle, Tim, Denny, and Murray were all at home when we got there with Sean. Brian was off working with the dogs at Mack Mixon's house, and Justin was finishing out Jeff's shift at the hotel. Kyle had already met Sean, and he must have told the others what was going on. The kids were all eyes when we made the introductions.
       "Kyle, would you mind making some coffee, please?" Rick asked.
       "No, problem," Kyle said, as he got up to do it.
       He was gone for a few minutes, and, when he came back, he had a tray of snacks for us. He knew Tim, Denny, and Murray wouldn't drink any coffee, so he brought them each a bottle of juice.
       "I know you had some coffee a little while ago. Would you rather have juice or a coke?" he asked Sean.
       "That juice looks good," Sean said.
       "I'll get you some when I get the coffee," Kyle said.
       "How did you get here?" Tim asked.
       "On a Greyhound bus, and I really don't recommend it," Sean said.
       "I know what you mean. I didn't go to Disney World for Grad Night last year because they went on a damn bus," Kyle said.
       We made more small talk until the coffee was ready. When it was, Kyle brought out the pot and cups and spoons for all of us who wanted them. He brought Sean a bottle of juice, too.
       "Okay, here's what's going to happen," I said, starting the discussion. "We would like for you to live here, Sean, but only if we can work out the legalities. We have a good friend by the name of Mr. Tyrone Williams. He's a supervisor with the Department of Children and Families with the state of Florida. We'll call him and let him know what's going on. He'll know what we have to do next."
       "When will you call him?" Sean asked.
       "In a few minutes. We have his cell number if he's already left the office for the day," I said.
       "In fact, let me go ahead and make the call right now," Rick said.
       He got up and got the cordless phone that was in the den. He sat back down next to me. He pushed a button to speed dial Tyrone's number.
       He asked to speak with Tyrone, but he was evidently already gone.
       "What's his cell phone number?" Rick asked.
       "Dial TWC," I said.
       "How can you remember that?" Kyle asked.
       "They're all programmed alike. The person's initials and C for cell. We use O for office and H for home," I said.
       "That's pretty cool," Kyle said. "What if you get two with the same initials?"
       "We'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it," I said.
       "Tyrone, my man," Rick said when Tyrone answered.
       Pause.
       "Well, we've got a little situation on our hands here, Tyrone. Do you know what a blog is?"
       Pause.
       "That's right. Jeff Martin keeps one, and he writes a lot about the family, of course. A young man in Virginia is one of his readers, and he showed up here today unannounced," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "No, they don't," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "He's already called them. He left a message on their answering machine to say that he's safe, but he didn't say where he is," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Okay, I'll get him to do that just as soon as you and I are finished," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "No, of course we don't mind having him here, but we want to do it legally," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Okay. Either Kevin or I or both of us will talk to them," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Babe, do you have anything tomorrow morning that you can't reschedule?" Rick asked me.
       "No, I'm fine. Does he want to come see us tomorrow?" I asked.
       "Yeah. Nine o'clock?"
       "Yeah, that's good," I said.
       "Tyrone, Kevin and I can both meet with you tomorrow morning at nine. I assumed you meant in our office, right?"
       Pause.
       "It's Sean Kelly, and he's fifteen. And, yes, he says he's gay," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Okay. We'll see you tomorrow, then. Do you want Sean there, too?"
       Pause.
       "Okay. 'Bye, and thanks," Rick said before he hung up.
       "I take it he wants me to call my parents again," Sean said.
       "Yes, and he'd like for one of us to talk to them, too," Rick said. "Then he wants to meet with us tomorrow."
       "I dread talking to them," Sean said. "They're going to be furious."
       "I imagine they will be, but you can see their point of view, can't you?" I asked.
       "Yeah, but they're going to be furious because I dared to act on my own," he said. "I hope they let me stay here."
       "Do you think there's any chance they might?" I asked.
       "Well, they've threatened several times to send me to boarding school. I don't really see how this would be any different," Sean said. "I mean, it's not like they're all that crazy about having me around."
       Yikes, I thought. Poor kid.
       "Let's get the phone call over with," Rick said. "Dial your number, please, Sean."
       "Would you mind talking to them?" he asked. "Instead of me, I mean."
       "I'll talk to 'em," Rick said.
       Sean dialed the number and handed the phone to Rick quickly.
       "Hello. Mrs. Kelly?" Rick said.
       Pause.
       "This is Rick Mashburn in Emerald Beach, Florida, and I have your son, Sean, here in my house," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Yes, ma'am, he's fine. I think he's worn out from his bus trip down, but he's in tip-top condition otherwise," Rick said.
       Pause.
       Rick went on to explain that we had already contacted the state people and that we had a meeting with the social worker in the morning at nine o'clock, Central Time. He said he was sure that Mr. Williams would want to talk to her and her husband by phone during that meeting.
       Pause.
       "No, ma'am. We won't put him back on a bus. My partner and I are experienced foster care providers, and we won't turn him over to anybody but you or law enforcement," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Yes, we are a committed gay couple, and we've been together for over six years," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "Mrs. Kelly, you and your husband and Sean can work out Sean's sexuality in person later on, but I can assure you he's not too young to know that he's gay." Rick said.
       Sean did a silent "YES!!" when Rick said that.
       Pause.
       "Well, he is safe, and he'll be well taken care of here. There are other boys his age here, too, and they'll look out for him," Rick said.
       Pause.
       "We're happy to do it. The kids mean a great deal to Kevin and me . . . "
       Pause.
       "Well, thank you, and it's been nice talking to you, too," Rick said.
       Then they said goodbye.
       "Was she mad?" Sean asked.
       "She said she was relieved. She was glad you had called and left a message, and she was glad I had called. They haven't gone to the police yet, but I think they were ready to," Rick said.
       "Are they coming to get me?" Sean asked.
       "She asked me not to put you on a bus to send you home, so I assume they will," Rick said.
       "I'm sorry for all the inconvenience, guys," he said, and he started crying. "I hope I don't have to go back."
       Kyle was the closest one to him on the sofa, and he scooted over toward Sean. Kyle wrapped his arm around him.
       "Let it out, Bubba. We got you covered," Kyle said.
       I had rarely seen that group as down as we all were at that moment. Kyle held him for a long time, and Sean gradually got his emotions under control.
       "Bubba, you don't smell too good," Kyle said.
       Sean's response was laughter.
       "I know. I need a shower," he said.
       "And what's this shit all over this face?" Kyle asked, scraping his finger on Sean's cheek.
       "And shave," Sean said. The way he said that was cute, and we all chuckled.
       "Come on. We'll show you your room. Where's your stuff?" Kyle asked.
       "It's still in my car," I said.
       "I'll get it," Tim said.
       "Where are you going to put him?" Rick asked.
       "Third floor. That's the only place there is," Kyle said.
       "Oh, that's right," Rick said. "We've got a full house, haven't we?"
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Guys, I'm going to go on home. Somehow I feel responsible for all of this," Jeff said.
       "That's silly, Jeff. Unless you mean you feel responsible for bringing a new brother into our lives, in which case you should feel proud," I said.
       "Thanks for being so understanding," Jeff said. "I knew there was some reason I loved you guys."
       We chuckled.
       "Sean, it's been good getting to meet you in person. I might not see you again, if you leave tomorrow, but let's stay in touch, okay?" Jeff said.
       "Okay. Can I have a hug?" Sean asked.
       Jeff hugged him hard, and Sean teared up again. He didn't cry, though, and Jeff left for home.
       "Come on, Bubba," Kyle said. "Let's get you squared away with a shower."

(Kyle's Perspective)
       Tim and I took Sean up to the third floor and went into the room with him.
       "This is nice," Sean said. "In fact, this whole place is nice. This room kind of reminds me of a hotel room, though."
       "It should. It's all hotel furniture. The towels will remind you of a hotel, too, 'cause they're hotel towels," I said. "But thick ones. Not those ones that are like tissues."
       "I guess when you're in the hotel business you can get stuff like that cheaper," Sean said.
       "That's exactly right, especially when you go through as many towels as we do around this place. We only get two a week each, but even that's a ton," I said. "And with the pool and all, some weeks we go through a hundred towels."
       "Who washes the clothes?" Sean asked.
       "We each wash our own. We have a maid that comes twice a week, but she just does the sheets and towels. She cleans up, too, of course. She comes on Tuesday and Friday. She washes half the sheets one day and half the other. She puts the clean sheets on our beds for us. When my parents still lived here, I used to take my clothes and Tim's clothes over there, and their maid washed them for us," I said.
       "Your parents don't live here?" he asked.
       "No. They moved to Destin, which is about thirty-five miles from here," I said. "My daddy works over there now. Just come on downstairs when you get your shower."
       "Kyle, would you mind waiting up here for me. I won't take long," he said.
       I thought that was odd, but I guess being in a strange house, and all, he felt kind of funny.
       "Okay. We'll wait for you," Tim said.
       He kicked his deck shoes off and pulled his shirt over his head. He took a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his shorts and put it on the desk.
       "That's right. I forgot you smoke. I'll get you an ashtray," I said.
       "Thanks," he said.
       "There are two in our room, Babe," Tim said. "Get one of those."
       "Okay. I'll be right back."
       "You're not afraid of leaving Tim in here with me naked?" he asked.
       I knew he was joking.
       "Shit, no. He don't want what you got," I said, and he laughed.
       I went down and got him an ashtray out of our room. I didn't know there were two in there. He was in the shower when I got back up to his room.
       "He seems really nice, doesn't he?" Tim asked.
       "Yeah, he does. He's got some looks on him, too," I said.
       "You weren't supposed to notice that," Tim said.
       "Yeah, like you didn't, you little sex monkey, you," I said.
       Tim actually blushed a little bit when I said that.
       "What?" I said.
       "You haven't called me that in a long time, Babe. I've missed that," he said.
       "You're always going to be my little sex monkey," I said. "Is that what you're talking about, or are you talking about sex. Are you getting enough?"
       I hoped so, 'cause if he wasn't, I didn't know where anymore was going to come from. We might miss a day now and then, but that was rare.
       "I'm not even going to answer that," he said. "What about you? Are you getting enough?"
       "Do you see me walking around here with a hard-on?" I asked.
       "I see you with a hard-on all the time," he said.
       "I know, and you cause every damn one of 'em. I'm very well satisfied, Tim, and I think you know that." Then it dawned on me. "You're teasing me, aren't you, you little shit?"
       He grinned, and I knew that's exactly what he was doing.
       I couldn't resist. I grabbed him and kissed him right there. And of course, that's exactly when ole Sean walked in. I don't know how long we kissed or how long he watched us, but that dick of his was pumping up.
       "Sorry about that," Tim said.
       "Don't be. I think you guys are very cute," he said.
       "Thanks. Put your clothes on," I said. He was hard as a rock, just standing there in front of two total strangers, and I don't even think he realized it. When he saw it, though, he blushed.
       "We'll meet you downstairs," Tim said.
       "Okay," he said, and we left the room.
       "He was embarrassed," Tim said.
       "I know he was, but he wasn't making any moves to get dressed. He was just standing there looking at us. He didn't even realize he had a hard-on, I don't think," I said.
       "I don't think he realized it, either. At least we know he won't have a problem with skinny dipping if he stays here," Tim said.
       "Do you think he's in there spanking the monkey?" I asked.
       "I don't know. He's been on a bus for several days, though. He might be," Tim said.
       "True. I hadn't thought of that," I said.
       We were back in the den, and Justin and Brian were home by then.
       "Where's the new guy?" Justin asked.
       "He's coming, one way or the other," I said.
       Tim was the only one who could get that joke, and he near 'bout doubled over, he was laughing so hard.
       "What's so funny?" Justin asked.
       "It's a long story, Bubba. You had to be there," Tim said.
       "Well, that's a fine thing when my own brothers won't let me in on a joke," Justin said.
       "We'll tell you, but not right now. Give it a rest," I said.
       "Okay! Don't get mad at me, Kyle, 'cause I'll rip your nuts off, if you do," Justin said.
       "Yeah. Sure," I said back to him.
       "Don't start. Please," Brian said.
       "What's the matter, Little Buddy. You know we were just playing," Jus said.
       "I know, but I had a terrible day," he said.
       "What happened, Bri?" Kevin said. He said it real gentle and kind.
       "One of the dogs I've been working with got killed," he said.
       "Oh, Baby. I'm so sorry," Justin said.
       We all said the same thing.
       "How'd it happen?" Kevin asked.
       "She died of a snakebite. A water moccasin. Her owner lives on a canal in town, and she went into the canal. That's when she got bit. He didn't know what had happened. He heard her yelp, but he wasn't right where she was to see it. It didn't take very long for the venom to get to her," he said.
       "What kind of dog was it, Little Buddy?" Justin asked.
       "A black Lab," he said. And then he started to cry. "She was from the same litter as Krewe, and she was as cute as Krewe is. I loved her." He was sobbing. "When Mr. Mack told me about it, all I could think of was Krewe getting bitten by a fucking snake and dying like that."
       That boy was very upset. He called it a "fucking snake," and that was something Brian never said.
       "Come on. Let's go upstairs, Little Buddy," Justin said.
       "I'm sorry I got so emotional," Brian said.
       "Brian, you know what I'm thinking, don't you?" Rick asked.
       "If I can't get emotional here, where can I?" he asked.
       "That's right, son," Rick said. "Let your boy take care of you now."
       "Okay," Brian said, and they went upstairs.
       "That was rough," I said.
       "I'll bet he didn't cry in front of Mr. Mack," Tim said. "He's been holding that in all afternoon."
       Sean finally came down. He had on some really nice clothes, and I could tell that boy knew how to dress. It looked like he knew how to shop, too.
       "Feeling better?" Kevin asked.
       "Yeah. I almost went to sleep in the shower, standing up," he said.
       "You don't want to do that. You'll fall and bust your ass," I said.
       "When do Justin and Brian get home?" he asked.
       "They're home. They went upstairs. Brian was very upset about something that happened today," Kevin said.
       "What happened?" Sean asked.
       "One of the dogs he was training got bitten by a snake and died," Kevin said.
       "Oh, no," Sean said. "Speaking of dogs, where are your dogs?"
       "That's a good question," Rick said. "Where are they?"
       Brian had gotten the bright idea to put a doggie door in the back door of the house for them to come in and out, especially when we weren't home. Brian, Justin, and Rick had spent a whole day installing the damn thing, and it worked good after Brian taught them how to use it. I figured they were outside somewhere.
       "Kyle, go see if you can find them, would you please?" Rick said.
       "All right," I said.
       Just like I thought, they were out in the back yard playing. If I didn't know better, I would have thought they were playing tag or something.
       "Come on, girls. Y'all get in the house," I said.
       They were so happy to see me, you'd have thought I was Brian or something. That was the thing about those two. They were always glad to see you. They didn't lick anymore, and that was a good thing, but they would put that wet, slimy nose on you in a heartbeat. Nobody seemed to mind that but me, though. I rarely got down low enough around them so they could get to my face with those noses.
       With as many people in and out of our house all the time, you'd have thought they were used to strangers. Oh, no. They had to meet and greet every one of 'em. Sean was a new potential friend, and they had to go say hello to him.
       "Hi, guys," Sean said. He had this big-ass grin on his face, like he was loving every second of it.
       "They won't lick you," I said, "but watch out for the noses."
       "I don't mind that," he said. "I used to have one."
       "A black Lab?" Kevin asked.
       "A yellow Lab. They're the same, though," he said. "My mom told me one time that she had read that Labs were just about the most people-friendly dogs there are."
       "These two are members of the family," Rick said.
       Yeah, you say that now, I thought. That wasn't always your attitude.
       "We'd rather have them than Kevin and Rick," I said. "Especially Rick."
       "Do you guys have trouble getting along?" he asked.
       We all started laughing.
       "These two are identical twins separated at birth," Tim said. "Sometimes we call him Little Rick and him Big Kyle."
       "Rick, I've been thinking about that. I don't think I really like you all that much," I said.
       "Go to your room, Kyle," Rick said.
       "And do what?" I asked, trying to be kind of sexy.
       "Never mind. Forget it. Stay here," Rick said.
       Ole Sean caught on, and he laughed.
       "Let's go see the clubhouse and the pool. And the dock and the boat," I said.
       Krewe's ears perked up when she heard me say "boat."
       "You ain't going out. There's big snakes out there ready to get your ass," I said. I squeezed her haunches a little, and she liked that.
       "Kyle, please don't say that about snakes around Brian," Tim said.
       "Oh, my God! I can't believe I said it. I'm such a dumb shit sometimes. I scare myself," I said.
       Sean laughed. I could tell he was enjoying the hell out of being there.
       "Be careful, Kyle. Brian's pretty fragile right now," Rick said.
       "I know. I will never say s-n-a-k-e again in my life," I said.
       "Yes, you will, asshole," Justin said. He and Brian were back in the room.
       "Are you feeling better, Bubba?" Kevin asked Brian.
       "Yeah. Thanks, guys. You must be Sean. I'm Brian Mathews, and this is my partner, Justin Davis," he said. They all shook hands.
       "You guys are awesome," Sean said.
       He was looking at those two like he had snake on the mind, but not the kind that bit that dog.
       "We were just going out to look at stuff," I said.
       "Okay. Is anybody besides me hungry?" Justin asked.
       "We had a snack when we first got home," Rick said. "Get yourself something to eat."
       "What we got?" Justin asked.
       "Go look and see," I said. "There's some fried chicken in the refrigerator, and it's good."
       "Where'd it come from? Publix?" Justin asked.
       "No, I fried it this afternoon," I said.
       "For real?" he asked.
       "No, I didn't fry any chicken, and, yes, it came from Publix. Where does everything we eat come from?" I asked.
       "You could have fried a damn chicken, Kyle," he said.
       "Yeah, but we got a whole flock fried up in there," I said.
       "A flock?"
       "Yeah. Ain't that what they come in? Flocks?" I said.
       "You're thinking of a flock of sheep," Justin said.
       "They're mighty little sheep, if that's what they are," I said. "Get in there and get you some food, before I flock your ass."
       They all laughed.
       "Oh, that was a good one. You got me last on that one, for sure," Justin said.
       Justin and Brian went into the kitchen to get themselves some food.
       "We play a game called 'Got You Last,'" Tim started to tell Sean.
       "I know. I read about it in Jeff's blog," he said. "Do you guys read it?"
       "I know he writes something on the Internet, but I don't know where it is," I said.
       Justin and Brian came back in with big plates of fried chicken and some really good cucumber and tomato salad with feta cheese I had bought. They each had a coke and a biscuit, too.
       "Do y'all read the stuff Jeff writes on the Internet?" I asked Justin and Brian.
       "I knew he wrote stuff. I just look at the pictures, though," Justin said.
       "I've read some of it," Brian said. "He writes really well, and I think he really captures who we are."
       "Kyle, those are almost the exact words you used this afternoon when we were talking about Jeff's blog," Sean said.
       "I know, but I didn't say I read it. I've heard Brian say that before," I said.
       Sean got a kick out of that.
       "He can barely read," Justin said through a big mouthful of food.
       "That's not true. I can read. I just choose not to," I said.
       "Kyle, you read. You're misleading him," Tim said.
       "That's his Emerald Beach, 'I'm dumb, and I can prove it,' bullshit," Justin said.
       "Sean, I do read, but I really haven't read the blog yet," I said.
       "I've read most of it, Sean," Tim said.
       "So have I," Kevin and Rick both said.
       "I don't remember seeing any pictures in the blog," Sean said. "What pictures were you talking about, Justin?"
       "The ones on the family Web site," Jus said. "You probably don't know about that. You have to know the magic words to get into it."
       "No, I don't," Sean said. "Can I see it?"
       "Yeah, but later, okay?" I said.
       "Okay, but don't forget. I might not be here very long," he said.
       Nobody responded to that.
       "This was good, Kyle," Justin said. "I enjoyed my supper."
       "I enjoyed my supper, too, Kyle," Brian said.
       He gathered up the paper plates and silverware he and Brian had been using, and he took them to the back.
       "Why did you guys say that, Brian?" Sean asked.
       "Say what?" Brian asked.
       "That you enjoyed your supper," Sean said.
       "That's just what people do around here," I said.
       "Sean, it's something Kyle introduced us to. It's a way of thanking the person responsible for the meal. Kyle didn't cook that food, but he got it for us. They were just letting him know they appreciated his efforts," Kevin said.
       "I like that," Sean said.
       "Let's go look at the facilities before it gets pitch dark out there," I said.
       I've lived in real nice places all my life, but I didn't think there was a better, or more boy-friendly, place anywhere than that patio-pool-clubhouse-dock-boat. What else could you ask for? If you were into sports and working out, we had tons of that stuff. If you liked to watch TV or movies, or listen to music, we had some of the best equipment available to do that. We had the best computer and the fastest connection available. If you liked to play cards or board games, we had what you needed for that. We had more video games than anybody I knew, and if all you liked to do was sit and read, like a certain brother of mine did, we had some of the most comfortable furniture you could imagine.
       The pool was huge, and the patio was beautiful, thanks to the yard guys and Rick. The dock was a dock, but the boat was pretty damn nice. It had given all of us and our friends many, many hours of pleasure. I was so glad I had thought to name it after my brother. We were blessed, we were spoiled, and I knew it. But when I thought of all the guys who had had so much fun and so much fellowship and so much brotherhood at that place, it made me feel good. I knew Kevin and Rick were besides themselves with pride over what they were doing. As well they should be.
       I wasn't one to pray much, except like when we went to church. But that night, as we were poking around, I asked God to please let Sean stay with us, at least for a little while. I knew the key to the whole thing was Mr. Tyrone. I knew he knew what was going on in the lives of some very lucky boys on North Lagoon Drive, and I prayed that God would give him the words to say to Sean's parents so Sean could stay with us.
       "Do y'all want to swim?" I asked, after Sean had ooh-ed and aah-ed over the stuff.
       "I do," Justin said. "Where are Denny and Murray? And where the hell is Ken?" Justin asked.
       "Ken's still at work," Rick said. "We had a server go down in the gift shop in the Goodson Building, and he's working on getting that back on line."
       "Denny and Murray are both doing homework," Tim said.
       "What about you guys? Do you have homework?" Kevin asked Tim and Brian.
       "Nothing pressing," Brian said.
       "Me, either," Tim said.
       He knew those two were going to make straight A's, so there was no point in dogging 'em. I had a little reading to do, but I didn't have class until eleven the next day, and I'd do it in the morning. Or not. I figured Justin had already done his homework, if he had any. That was the way he was.
       "Let's get in the water," I said.
       Sean stripped right down in front of us, like he had been doing it all his life. He dove right in with the rest of us.
       "Let's play 'dick tag,' and Rick is 'it,'" I said.
       Sean even knew what that game was all about, and we had a hell of a time playing together that night.
       "Please, God, don't let Sean go away," I prayed silently, as Tim was turning out our light that night.

(Sean's Perspective)
       I had come out to my parents at the beginning of the summer after my freshman year, when I first started dating Jared. He was twenty-one years old, and he was going into his senior year of college at the University. Jared was out to everybody, and he said he hadn't suffered any bad repercussions from coming out. He encouraged me to tell my parents.
       I was an only child, and that basically sucked. My mom was thirty-nine when I was born, and my dad was forty-two. They had gotten married when they were in their twenties, and I was convinced I was an "accident." My mom was now fifty-five years old, and my dad was fifty-eight, and they didn't know what to do with a teenager. He was the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at one of the best state universities in the country, and my mom was a professor of philosophy at the same school. They were very devoted to their careers, and, frankly, I basically got in the way.
       The dean of Arts and Sciences has a very prominent position in a small college town that has a huge major university and nothing else. Neither one of my parents was homophobic in the traditional sense, and they had many openly gay friends. My dad had to deal with issues associated with GLBT rights and programs all the time, and he always came out on the pro-GLBT side. So. My coming out was a piece of cake, right? No way.
       "No, you're not gay," my mother said right after I told them. She said that with the same conviction as she would have said, "No, you're not pregnant."
       "Mom, I'm gay. Every bit of me is gay," I said.
       "Sean, you can't possibly be gay. There is absolutely no history of homosexuality in our family on either side, so how could you be homosexual?" she asked.
       "Mom, I don't believe this," I said. "How do you know nobody in either family has ever been gay? Huh?"
       "Son, your mother's right. Recent studies of the genetic origins of homosexuality are pretty compelling," Dad said.
       "I don't care about genetics or any of that crap. I know how I feel, Dad," I said.
       "You know how you think you feel," he said.
       "Are you telling me that my feelings don't play a part here?" I asked.
       "No, of course they do, but your mother and I just don't think you're old enough to know how you feel," he said.
       "Dad, you and Mom have never once put down gays in my presence. Gay faculty and student couples have been in this house a million times. There have been editorials in the campus paper praising your attitude toward gays and lesbians. I don't get it," I said.
       "Sean, you're only fourteen," he said.
       "I'm fifteen, Dad, and in October I'm going to be sixteen," I said.
       "Yes, well, I'm afraid I need to cut this short. I've got an event tonight. We'll talk about this another time," he said.
       That was it. That was my grand "coming out." They didn't believe me. They didn't trust me to know how I felt, and they damn sure didn't have time to explore it with me.
       "Don't forget, I'm leaving tomorrow for that conference at Stanford," Mom said to my dad, as he pecked her on the cheek.
       "Oh, right, and I've got that wretched legislative testimony for the next week or more in Richmond," he said.
       That was the first I had heard of either thing. When I was little, they would buttonhole a graduate student to come and stay at our house to baby sit me when they were out of town, but they had stopped those arrangements when I had turned twelve. Now, they simply left me on my own. Often.
       I was basically a neglected child who had more money and more "things" than I knew what to do with. I lived in a great house. I had beautiful clothes. I knew I'd get a terrific car when I was old enough to drive. I got an allowance of $200 a week. I had everything I wanted but parents who would listen to me. Parents who cared. I lived in the lap of luxury, and I was miserable.
       "Did you tell your folks?" Jared asked me the next day.
       "Yeah, but they didn't believe me. There's no genetic record to indicate that I might be gay, so, therefore, I'm not," I said.
       "Jeeze, that's pretty extreme," he said.
       "I know," I said.
       * * *
       Jared was a really cool guy, but he wanted to hang out with guys his own age a lot of the time. I mean, I looked old for my age, but I was still only fifteen. The shit hit the fan the night the police raided a club Jared had taken me to. They took me in for underage drinking, and, of course, they called my parents in the middle of the night. It was, ironically, July Fourth, Independence Day.
       "Who is this boy you were with?" my father demanded when they got me home.
       "His name's Jared, and he's my boyfriend," I said. "We've been dating for a month."
       "Dating?" he asked, only he said it like we had been counterfeiting or murdering or scalding puppies.
       "Yes, Dad. Dating. Gay guys date, too, you know?" I said.
       "Don't use that tone of voice with me, Sean," he said. "I want you to stop seeing him immediately. He's much too old for you to have as a friend, as tonight's fiasco proves."
       I didn't respond.
       "Well, say something," he said.
       "Say what, Dad? He's my friend. I like him. We have fun together. Why should I stop dating him?" I asked.
       "You're impossible," he said. "Your mother and I both have very full days tomorrow. We'll talk about this another time. Go to bed. It's two o'clock in the morning."
       That was the way it was. Being gay was fine, for everybody but me. Having a boyfriend was fine, for everybody but me. Being an independent person was fine, for everybody but me.
       I discovered Jeff's blog toward the end of August. He had been writing it for several months, and I devoured his archives like a starving man would devour a banquet. I read about the guys in Emerald Beach, and I longed to be in that environment. Jeff was a good writer, and he painted word pictures of an incredibly happy gay family, who had a huge circle of gay and straight friends, all of whom loved, or at least accepted, one another. I knew I had to get down there to be a part of that.
       My father got a restraining order against Jared's seeing me right after the Fourth of July. Jared and I were friends. We had kissed some, and we had even jerked each other off a few times when the kissing had made us so hot we couldn't stand it, but we weren't in love. When my dad got that restraining order, Jared dropped me like a hot potato. He had to, or face police action.
       That was it. I knew I needed to be out of there. I wrote to Jeff saying I had botched a suicide attempt, but I really hadn't. I knew suicide was a red flag for gay men dealing with gay teenagers because of the high incidence of suicide among my age group. I was hoping Jeff, and the others in Emerald Beach, would want me to come there to keep me alive. I knew that was terribly manipulative, but I was pretty desperate.
       When I got there and met them, though, I was immediately sorry I had misrepresented myself. They didn't care if I had slit my wrists on the White House lawn. They didn't even mention it. They were much more sophisticated than I expected, and they were a good bit smarter, too. But most of all, they were incredibly nice and incredibly normal. And they took care of one another.
       I made a fool of myself with Kyle and Tim by getting an erection when I saw them kissing. They basically ignored that, even though I was mortified by it. Then I learned that Brian was upset because a dog he had been working with had died of a snakebite. They rallied behind Brian. That's what I wanted. A family who cared about one another, even though the one they cared about was just a kid.
       I went to bed that night a bundle of contradictions. On the one hand, I felt guilty for misleading them into thinking I had attempted suicide and needed them to keep me from killing myself. On the other hand, I felt as though I had come to the place where I was destined to be.
       I masturbated twice that night. Once after I had seen Kyle and Tim kissing, and again when I went to bed. I was thinking about Kyle and Justin naked in the pool, but I was also thinking about either, or both, or them in bed with me.
       The last thing I remember thinking before I went to sleep was how much I truly dreaded the next day.

Chapter 11

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I woke up at five o'clock. Tim and I set the alarm clock every night for 6:30 in the morning, but I was wired that day. I looked at my baby lying next to me in the dim half light, and I wanted him so bad. That wasn't fair, though, and I could wait till that night. I was holding him, and I was spooned right up against him, too.
       "Wha . . ." he said, when I turned him loose.
       "Nothing. Go back to sleep," I said.
       "Okay," he said, and he was back to sleep before I got out of bed.
       I took care of my needs in the bathroom, and put on the bikini briefs I had worn the day before. I went downstairs. Rick was there, getting ready for his run with the dogs.
       "Hey, Kyle. Why are you up so early?" he asked.
       "I don't know. I just couldn't sleep. I need some thinking time, I guess," I said.
       "It's Sean, isn't it?" he said.
       "Yeah, I guess," I said. "He needs to stay here, Rick."
       "I know," Rick said. "Maybe his parents will let him."
       "You're going to meet with Mister Tyrone today, aren't you?" I asked
       "Yeah, we're supposed to," Rick said.
       "Can I be there? To support Sean?" I asked.
       "Let's see what Kevin says," Rick said.
       He went out to run, and he took the two dogs with him. I went into the den and lay down on a sofa. I went back to sleep.
       "There you are," Tim said, waking me up. "I was wondering where you were."
       "I woke up really early, and I came downstairs," I said.
       "You're worried about Sean, aren't you?" Tim said.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Babe, he's going to be okay," Tim said.
       "I hope so, Tim, but he needs us, I think," I said.
       "I know," Tim said.
       "Get on here with me," I said.
       "Kyle, I don't have time for that," he said.
       "Five minutes. That's all," I said.
       "It feels so good to be here with you," Tim said.
       I nuzzled up close to him. I was totally hard, and I knew he was, too. We didn't have sex out there in the den, but it was a very sensual experience for both of us. We both dozed off, too.
       "Tim. Wake up. We're going to be late," Brian was saying.
       "Okay. I'm sorry," Tim said. "I've got to go to school, Babe. I need to get dressed. I've already had my shower."
       "Okay. But Tim, I want you in me bad right now," I said.
       "I know. I want you, too," Tim said.
       "You guys! Cut it out. You're making me hard," Brian said. "Let's go, Tim."
       Timmy blushed, and so did I. Thank God it was Brian, and not Kevin or Rick, I thought. I kissed Tim and he got up. I got up in a minute, too, and went into the kitchen. Sean and Ken were the only ones at the table. I still had me a full-blown stiffy, and they were both staring at it.
       "Morning," I said, pouring myself some coffee.
       "Good morning," they both said.
       "I guess you guys met, huh?" I said.
       "Yeah. I was a little surprised to find Sean here," Ken said.
       "What time did you get home last night?" I asked Ken.
       "It was after one," he said.
       "Did you have a date?" Sean asked.
       "No. I wish. I was working. We had a server go down in the Goodson Building, and that is an A-Number-One top priority. We don't leave until the problem is fixed," Ken said.
       "Do you get overtime pay for that?" I asked.
       "No. I'm on salary, not hourly. They make it up to you in what they call comp time," Ken said.
       "What does that mean?" I asked.
       "Compensatory time. Time off, in other words," he said. "I've got quite a bit of it, actually."
       "Have y'all seen Kevin and Rick this morning?" I asked.
       "Not yet. They haven't woken up yet, I guess," Sean said.
       "Oh, yeah. They're awake, and I know what they're doing, too," I said.
       "What?" Sean asked. That kid had a lot to learn.
       "What does a married couple do?" I asked.
       "Sex?" he asked, sort of blushing.
       "Yeah. Only we call it making love. Have you ever had a boyfriend?"
       "I dated a guy for a while, so, yeah, I guess you could say I had a boyfriend," he said.
       "Any sex?" Ken asked.
       "That's kind of private, don't you think?" Sean said.
       "Yeah, it is. Ken, I know you didn't mean anything bad when you asked him that, but I guess nobody told you the house rules. What we do in private, stays in private. No public shows of affection, except maybe a hug or a quick 'hello' or 'goodbye' kiss. I probably shouldn't have said what I did about Kevin and Rick," I said.
       "I wish I had known those rules before I asked him," Ken said. "Thanks for telling me. I could have really embarrassed myself."
       "Any other rules?" Sean asked.
       "The only other one is that nobody does anything unless both guys really want it. And I mean really want it," I said. "Absolutely no forced sex."
       "Can I ask a question?" Sean said.
       "Sure," I said.
       "Is everybody in the house sexually active?" he asked.
       "Everybody here is gay. Kevin and Rick, Justin and Brian, and me and Tim are couples, and we're all sexually active. I don't know about the rest," I said.
       "Do you and Tim have group sex with Justin and Brian?" Sean asked.
       "See, that's the kind of question you're not supposed to ask. But I'll tell you anyway. Basically, no," I said. "And that's as far as I'm going."
       "Are you mad at me?" Sean asked.
       "No, I'm not mad at you. That's a natural thing to be curious about, especially since the two couples are so close. You're just learning the rules," I said.
       "Sean, if you stick around here, you're going to have your eyes opened big time about the life of a group of gay men," Ken said.
       "What do you mean?" Sean asked.
       "They just live like ordinary people. Have you ever seen the show Queer as Folk?" he asked.
       "Yeah. I bought all the videos, in fact. DVD's, actually," Sean said.
       "What you see on that show isn't the kind of life these guys live," Ken said. "Not by a long sight."
       "I know you guys have parties because of what Jeff said in his blog," Sean said.
       "Yeah, we party all the time," I said. "That's why we have the clubhouse and all that stuff. We have a lot of friends. We don't have sex parties, though."
       "Would you go to a sex party?" Sean asked.
       "I'm not planning to ever have sex with anybody but Tim," I said. "I need to get a shower and get dressed. I'm going with y'all to the meeting with Mr. Williams."
       "Good. I was hoping you would," Sean said.
       I took my shower and shaved. I put on some nice clothes. Not dress clothes, but nice sport clothes. I put on a pair of long khaki pants, and that felt strange as hell. I couldn't even remember the last time I had had on long pants.
       "Well, don't you look nice," Kevin said. He and Rick and Sean were in the den.
       "I'm going with you, aren't I?" I said.
       "Yeah. Rick said you wanted to go, and I think that might help ole Sean, here, stay a little calmer," Kevin said.
       "Are you nervous?" I asked Sean.
       "God, yes. Would it be okay if I smoked?" Sean asked.
       "Yeah, you can smoke in the house," Rick said. "Everybody else does."
       "Not everybody," I said.
       "Who doesn't?" Rick said.
       "Well, you don't, for one, dummy," I said. "Tim and Brian don't. Denny doesn't."
       "You seldom do," Rick said.
       "I smoke all I want to," I said.
       "You just don't want to," Rick said.
       "That's right. These guys used to call me The Smoker before they knew my name because back then I was smoking some," I told Sean. "That's all they knew about me. I was Tim's friend, and I was The Smoker."
       Sean sort of smiled. I think that cheered him up a little bit. I hoped it did, anyway.
       "Did you smoke that cigar that Craig gave you when Rob was born?" Rick asked.
       "Hell, no. That thing's as big as a dick," I said.
       "And that fact causes you problems?" Rick asked.
       "Shut up," I said. But he and I were both laughing.
       "Let's go on and go," Kevin said. "Kyle, you can show Sean around the Goodson Building until it's time for our meeting."
       "Wow! You have your own building?" Sean said. He was teasing me.
       "I wish it was mine. They'd be two empty offices on the fifth floor, if it was," I said.
       "Yeah, right," Rick said.
       He went to tousle my hair, but I dodged him.
       "What are you doing? I worked hard on this hair," I said.
       The fact of the matter was I hadn't done shit to it except put gel in it and run my fingers through.
       "I forgot about what a talented hairdresser you are, Kyle," Rick said.
       "Yeah? I'll dress your hair by putting a paper sack over your head. That would be the first step in the Emerald Beach beautification project," I said.
       Sean giggled a little bit when I said that. That was good, 'cause you can't laugh and feel bad at the same time. Maybe he was feeling a little better.
       "Let's start the tour in the coffee shop," I said when we got to the building.
       "Okay. I need to go upstairs and let Mary Ann know what's going on. She'll need to get some refreshments ready," Kevin said.
       "I need to go up, too," Rick said. "Watch the time, Kyle. This meeting starts at nine, so y'all be up there at least five minutes before nine."
       "Okay," I said, and they left.
       "You want something to eat? They have really good pastries here," I said.
       "My stomach's too nervous to eat," Sean said. "Maybe a bottle of juice would be nice."
       I got me four bear claws and a cup of coffee, and I got him a bottle of that Sobe mixed fruit juice.
       "Let's sit on the deck so we can smoke," I said.
       We didn't say much while I was eating. I didn't know where they got those bear claws, but I loved them. I think I could eat a dozen.
       "Will it bother you if I smoke?" Sean asked.
       "Naw. Go ahead. Justin smokes a lot when he gets nervous, too," I said.
       "You and Justin are funny. And so are you and Rick," Sean said.
       "Justin and Rick are funny, too," I said.
       There was a pause in the conversation, and I kept eating.
       "Kyle, do you believe in God?" Sean asked me.
       Where did that come from? I wondered.
       "Yeah, I believe in God," I said, with a big mouthful of food. "Don't you?"
       "Not really," he said. "I mean I don't doubt that there could be a God, but I just never think about it."
       "There's a name for that," I said.
       "Yeah. It's 'agnostic,'" he said.
       For some reason, I could never remember that word.
       "Why did you ask me that just now?" I asked.
       "Because at times like this, I wish I believed in God so I could say a prayer," he said.
       "I said a prayer for you last night," I said. "I don't do that very often, but I did it last night."
       "You did?"
       "I sure did. I asked God to let you stay here with us," I said.
       "That really makes me feel good," he said. "Thank you."
       "You're welcome. I hope it works," I said.
       Most of the first floor of that building, and all of the second floor, was a gift shop. They closed down most of the gift shops when it wasn't tourist season, but they kept that one, and three or four other big ones, open year round. I didn't know the people who worked there, but we spent a few minutes looking at the stuff they had for sale.
       I didn't know how he was fixed for smokes, but I knew nobody was going to sell them to him without ID.
       "Put these in your pocket," I said, handing him a pack I had bought.
       He got this big surprised look on his face, and then he smiled.
       "Thanks," he said.
       "Don't mention it. I'll probably bum 'em back from you," I said.
       "Any time you want one," he said, smiling.
       "Okay," I said. "We better go up."
       "Jesus," he mumbled. "I'm so scared."
       That boy was hurting bad, and I hated to see that. I did something I probably was going to regret, but I just said "fuck it," and I took his hand. It was a hot day, but his hand was ice cold. The elevator came, and we got on, still holding hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw there was somebody in there, but I didn't pay attention to who it was.
       "Isn't that cute? Look at the sweet little fags holding hands on the elevator," a voice said.
       I saw red. I spun around as fast as I could, and it was fucking Chuck standing there grinning at me.
       "What the hell are you doing?" I demanded. "You didn't know it, but you were fixing to get it good, Bubba."
       He was laughing, and, of course, I started laughing, too.
       "This joker is one of our brothers from the townhouse. Sean, this is Chuck Jackson. Chuck, this is Sean Kelly," I said.
       "Nice to meet you, Sean. I certainly know who you are," Chuck said.
       "What are you doing here?" I asked.
       "Sales meeting. You do remember I work for this company, don't you?" he said.
       "I didn't know that," I said.
       "Yeah, right," he said. "Are y'all meeting with Kevin and Rick?"
       "Yeah, and the social worker, Tyrone Williams," I said.
       "Good luck, Sean. Anybody who wants to be here enough to do what you did ought to get to stay," Chuck said.
       "Thanks," Sean mumbled.
       We got off on the fifth floor, but Chuck stayed on.
       "That's a good guy right there," I said. "His boyfriend is Tony Miller, and he works here, too. We can go meet him when we're finished."
       "I know," he said.
       Damn, I need to read Jeff's blog and find out what all this boy knows about me, I thought.
       "Hi, Kyle. Hi, Sean," Miss Mary Ann said when we walked into her office. "Go right in. They're waiting for you."
       I looked at my watch, and it was exactly five minutes to nine. We weren't late.

(Tyrone's Perspective)
       The traffic leading up to the bridge, and on the bridge itself, was bad, as usual. I looked over at the first span of the new bridge, and I noticed they had gotten the last piece in place. It wouldn't be long now before they'd open that thing.
       "Hi, Tyrone," Kevin and Rick said in unison when Kevin's secretary showed me in.
       "Hi, fellows," I said.
       There was a tray of pastries on the table, and there was a bucket of ice with water and juice. The coffee smelled fresh, too. I fixed myself a cup of coffee at their invitation, but I passed on the pastries. They looked awfully good, but I had promised my doctor I would lose weight because of my blood pressure.
       In a minute, Sean came in with another boy that I recognized as being one of the kids at the home. It turned out to be Kyle Goodson, and I felt like a dummy for not remembering his name. I meet so many kids, though.
       I had spoken with Kevin earlier that morning from my car on the way over, so I had the basics.
       "Sean, are you still troubled by thoughts of suicide?" I asked.
       He blushed to the roots of his hair.
       "It's nothing to be ashamed of, son. We're just happy it didn't have the desired effect. Exactly how did you do it, anyhow?" I asked.
       "I didn't. I lied," Sean said.
       Kevin, Rick, and Kyle looked at one another with shock on their faces.
       "You didn't attempt suicide?" I asked.
       "No. I'm sorry I lied about that, but I thought it would make them want to take me in if I said that," he said. "I'm really not usually a liar. Does that make you change your mind about my staying here?"
       "I don't think so," Kevin said, and Rick agreed.
       I could see the relief on the boy's face.
       "Tell us about the situation at home," I said.
       He told his story, and it was one I had heard countless times before from runaways. He was from an affluent, well-educated family that basically considered him a bother. He had all the material goods he needed, but there was evidently little or no love in his home. I knew from years of experience that fifteen-year-olds were perfectly capable of knowing if they were gay or not, and I thought his parents should know that, too.
       I explained the legalities to him. The only way he could stay there was if his parents gave their permission for him to stay, no matter how badly he wanted to.
       "Do you think they might give their consent?" I asked him.
       "I don't know. They might. They've talked a bunch of times about sending me to boarding school. I don't see how this would be much different," he said.
       "Well, let's see if we can get them on the phone. I'd like to talk with them," I said.
       Sean dialed the number, and his fingers were trembling as he did so. That was one scared little boy, even if he did look like he was twenty years old.
       "Hello, Mrs. Kelly, this is Tyrone Williams with the Florida Department of Children and Families," I said.
       "Hello, Mr. Williams. I was expecting your call," she said, rather cool I thought.
       "Is Mr. Kelly there? If he is, he might want to get on an extension," I said.
       "Dean Kelly isn't here. He had a meeting of the Faculty Senate this morning," she said.
       "Oh, I see," I said. I could certainly see how a teachers' meeting would be more important than his son's welfare, I thought, sarcastically.
       "I'll relay to him everything we discuss," she said.
       "Okay. Well, it's like this," I said, and I explained the situation.
       "We've considered boarding school for Sean, but we'd have to be convinced those people in Florida were worthy to raise our son," she said.
       She was starting to piss me off. I started to tell her about the miracles I had seen with my own eyes, but I held my tongue.
       "I understand your concern. I can certainly vouch for Mr. Foley and Mr. Mashburn. You do understand they're a firmly committed gay couple, don't you?"
       "Yes. That, in itself, isn't a problem for either my husband or me," she said. "My son isn't gay, but we certainly have numerous gay friends, colleagues, and associates."
       "But your son says he's gay," I said.
       "Mr. Williams, I really don't want to discuss my son's sexuality with you," Mrs. Kelly said.
       "All right," I said. "What will it take to convince you that Mr. Foley and Mr. Mashburn are worthy of your son?"
       The boy cringed when he heard me use the word "worthy," and I winked at him.
       "We'd like to meet them, talk to them, inspect their home," she said. "We've both got horrendous schedules for the next two weeks, but, after that, we'd like to visit and make our decision then."
       "Two weeks?" I asked, somewhat aghast it would take them that long.
       "Yes. Can that be arranged?" she asked.
       "I'm sure it can be. In the meantime, I'm going to get a temporary custody order in place so Kevin and Rick can act as Sean's parents. For school and such," I said.
       "I'll fax you his birth certificate and a power of attorney. We don't want this to go through the courts," she said. "What's the fax number there?"
       "What's your fax number, Kevin?" I asked.
       He told me, and I repeated it into the phone.
       "Do you have telephone numbers so you can make arrangements for your visit?" I asked.
       "No, but I'd like to have them," she said.
       "Let me give you to Kevin so he can tell you their numbers," I said.
       "Very well," she said.
       Kevin introduced himself and gave her several telephone numbers to reach them. When that was done, they concluded their conversation and hung up.
       "So what's the deal?" Rick asked.
       "Apparently, Mr. and Mrs. Kelly are willing to consider letting him stay," I said.
       "She likes to be called Dr. Kelly, and he likes to be called Dean Kelly," Sean said.
       I nodded to acknowledge what he had said.
       "What do we have to do? Pass inspection?" Kevin asked.
       "Basically, yes. You really can't blame them for that, Kevin," I said.
       "Oh, I don't. Do you think we'll pass, Sean?" he asked.
       "I know you will. When are they coming?" Sean asked.
       "Not for two weeks," I said. "Horrendous schedules."
       "They always have horrendous schedules," Sean said.
       "Two weeks. That seems like a long time," Rick said.
       "It does to me, too, but what can I say?" I said.
       "What did you need the fax number for?" Kevin asked.
       "She's going to fax his birth certificate and power of attorney. With the power of attorney, we won't have to go to court to get temporary custody papers," I said.
       There was a tap on the door just then, and Kevin's secretary opened it when Kevin told her to.
       "I'm sorry to disturb, but this fax just came. I thought it might be important," she said.
       "That's fine, Mary Ann. It is important. Thank you," Kevin said. "This is what we need. That was fast."
       I examined the power of attorney, and everything about it was in order. I noticed the notary stamp was dated with yesterday's date. That made me a little suspicious.
       "When did you get here?" I asked Sean.
       "Yesterday afternoon," he said.
       "And you all talked to them after he got here, of course," I said.
       "Yeah," Rick said. "I was the one on the phone, and it was just Mrs. Kelly. Dr. Kelly, I mean. Why do you ask?"
       "Well, I'm a little curious. This is a professionally-prepared power of attorney. They must have called their lawyer immediately," I said.
       "Their best friend is a lawyer," Sean said. "He probably did it."
       "Thomas Mallory signed it," I said.
       "Yeah, that's him," Sean said.
       "Well, Sean, you're going to be here for at least two weeks, anyway," I said. "This is all the business we have, so . . . "
       "Okay, Tyrone. Thanks a bunch, man," Rick said. "Welcome to the family, Bubba."
       Sean was grinning enough to split his cheeks. He was a happy boy, and that's what I liked to see.
       "Let's go get some lunch," Kyle said.
       "It's only ten o'clock," Kevin said. "Eat some of those pastries, if you're hungry."
       That Kyle was one of the best looking boys I had ever seen, and one of the most manly, too. He had been eyeing those pastries all during the meeting. His family had a lot of money, and more than once workers in my office had hit his old man up for a donation when a kid needed something the agency couldn't pay for. I promised myself I would never again forget his name.
       He got a napkin and stacked up two bear claws on it. I fondly remembered when I could eat like that and not have to worry about gaining weight. Sean got himself a couple, too.
       "Well, I feel like we're on the right track," I said, shaking hands with Kevin and Rick. "Don't give away all your beds. You never know when I'm going to need one."
       They chuckled a bit. I wished I could put a show about those guys and their home on national television. That would destroy stereotypes and homophobes alike, if I could do that. Driving back to the office, I said a silent prayer for Sean and his new family. My gut feeling was Sean would be there the rest of his life.

(Sean's Perspective)
       The meeting with Mr. Williams went so much better than I thought it would. I had been worried to death about telling them I had lied about my suicide. I just knew they were going to send me packing, but they didn't. I wasn't out of the woods yet, but I was pretty sure my parents were going to let me stay there.
       "Kyle, I hope you don't think I'm a liar, because I'm not," I said. We were in his car driving out of the parking lot.
       "Well, you lied about the suicide," he said.
       "I know, but I was desperate," I said.
       He thought for a few moments.
       "I can understand that," he said. "I try not to lie, but I know that sometimes you have to, especially if you're desperate. I won't hold it against you, and I won't tell the others, either. And I know Kevin and Rick won't."
       That was a load off my mind, and that was the next thing I was going to ask him. Not to tell.
       "What do you feel like doing?" he asked.
       "I don't know. Do you have class or anything?" I asked.
       "I had a nine o'clock class this morning, but I cut it to go to the meeting. I usually have an eleven o'clock, too, on Friday, but it was called off today. Do you want to see what the place looks like?"
       "Yeah, that would be good," I said.
       "Oh, I almost forgot. Before we do anything, let's go back inside so you can meet Tony," he said.
       "Okay," I said.
       From what Jeff had written, I knew Tony was the head of Information Services for Goodson Enterprises. He and Chuck were boyfriends, and Tony had recently gotten out of the Coast Guard.
       We went into the IS section of the building, and we came to a reception desk.
       "Hi, I'm Kyle Goodson, and I'd like to see Tony Miller," he said.
       "Do you have an appointment?" The receptionist was a guy.
       "No, I was just in the building, and I wanted to say hello," Kyle said.
       "Mr. Miller never sees salesmen without an appointment," the guy said.
       "I'm not a salesman. I'm his brother," Kyle said.
       "Oh. Let me see if he's free. What did you say your name was?"
       "Kyle Goodson," he said.
       "Goodson? As in . . . "
       "Yeah," Kyle said.
       The guy called somebody and asked if Tony could see us.
       "She says he's in with somebody," the guy said, holding his hand over the mouthpiece.
       "Who is it?" Kyle asked.
       "I know she won't tell me, but I know who it is. It's his roommate," the guy said.
       Then I remembered we had met Chuck in the elevator. That was probably who it was.
       "Tell her to tell him I'm here and I've got somebody he has to meet. We saw Chuck in the elevator, but we need to see Tony," Kyle said.
       "I'll try. Sheila, the person here is Kyle Goodson, and he says Tony is his brother." He really emphasized Kyle's last name.
       There was a pause.
       "Thanks, Sheila. Go on back," the guy said. "By the way, my name is Dan Rutland. I'm a technician, and I'm only filling in here at the desk. The girl's out today."
       "Nice to meet you, Dan," Kyle said, shaking hands.
       He introduced me as his brother, too, and I shook hands with Dan. Damn, it felt good when Kyle said I was his brother.
       The secretary's office was really nice, but it didn't have a window in it. She stood up.
       "Hi, I'm Kyle Goodson, and this is Sean Kelly. Can we please see Tony?" Kyle asked.
       "Hi, Mr. Goodson. I'm Sheila Wilcox. Mr. Miller said for you to go right in."
       His office was really, really nice. It was big, and he had four computers with huge monitors. Kyle introduced me to Tony, and I shook his hand.
       "Jeff told us he met you yesterday," Tony said to me. "Welcome to Emerald Beach, Bubba. We all call one another Bubba. Jeff says it's because we're all too stupid to remember one another’s names."
       I laughed. What a nice guy, I thought. He had on a dress shirt and tie, and I saw his suit coat on a rack. These guys were all big shots, it seemed. Chuck had on a business suit, too.
       "Did we give y'all enough time to get your dicks back in your pants?" Kyle asked.
       "You really are a little shithead, Kyle," Tony said, but he was laughing.
       "I might be a little shithead, but I'm a cute one," Kyle said.
       "You're cute all right, but do you know what that word really means?" Tony asked.
       "What?" Kyle asked.
       "It means bowlegged," Tony said.
       "Nuh unh," Kyle said.
       "Look it up," Chuck said.
       "For real?" Kyle asked.
       "That's what it used to mean," Tony said.
       "But it don't mean that now," Kyle said. I loved his accent, and some times it seemed to be thicker than other times.
       "No, it doesn't," Tony said. "So, Sean, I guess you're the newest member of the family."
       I explained about the two-weeks thing.
       We visited with them for a little while, and then Chuck said he had to leave. He kissed Tony goodbye right on the lips in front of Kyle and me, and I thought that was great. It just seemed so natural to me.
       "We better go, too, so this man can get back to work. Are y'all coming over tonight?" Kyle asked.
       "Probably. Are we invited?" Tony asked.
       "Since when do y'all need an invitation?" Kyle asked.
       "Or get one?" Chuck said.
       "You got me last on that one, Bubba," Kyle said. "Y'all's asses better be in that pool tonight, that's all I got to say. That's your invitation. Be there."
       "You're such a gracious host, Kyle," Chuck said.
       "Kiss my ass," Kyle said, and everybody laughed. That's when we left.
       "Kyle, everybody I've met in the family is cool," I said.
       "I know. I love all my brothers. There are some others, too, who don't live here anymore," he said. "We got one brother who lives in Montana. Well, two, really. Chris and his brother David."
       "Chris is the one with cerebral palsy, right?" I said.
       "Right. I forget just how much you know about us," he said. "I need to read that damn blog so I'll know what you know."
       I was quiet for a few minutes, just thinking about how lucky I was to be there. I had a bunch of questions, too.
       "Can I ask you a question?" I said.
       "Sure, but it's six and five-eighths inches," he said.
       "Huh?"
       He chuckled a little bit.
       "What's your question?" he asked.
       "What's six and five-eighths inches?"
       He laughed some more.
       "I'm just playing with you. My dick is, but what's your question?"
       God! I thought. That's huge. Mine was barely five and a half.
       "About the language. I notice you and Justin cuss in front of the others. I mean, I know guys do that with people their own age, and all, but what about with Kevin and Rick?"
       "They told me when I first got to know them that we're all guys and that guys talk like guys. Nobody cares. Now you take Brian. That boy never cusses. Last night he said something about a fucking snake biting Krewe, and that was the first time I ever heard him use that word. Fuck not snake," he said.
       I knew what he meant.
       "So I won't get in trouble if I say shit or fuck or something like that?" I asked.
       "Hell, no. We don't say stuff like that around my mama or other ladies, or with older guys who are strangers. But if it's just us, or with our friends, we don't hold back. Even in front of our priest, we don't. He's a friend of ours, too," he said.
       "Please don't use that kind of language when my mom's here, if she comes," I said.
       "Oh, we know better. You don't think she's going to come?"
       "She might, but my dad won't," I said. "I'd bet money on it. I'm just a huge inconvenience to him. He wasn't even home for the phone call this morning. That embarrassed me, but it didn't surprise me."
       "I thought that was a little bit strange," he said.
       "The Kellys are a family in name only," I said.
       "Well, we aren't, and now you're one of us," he said.
       I processed what he just said, and all of a sudden I was overwhelmed. Tears of joy started trickling down my face.
       Kyle noticed that I was crying, and he said, "We call those happy tears."
       "I'm sorry," I said. I was sort of half laughing and half crying.
       "Don't be, Bubba. Nothing feels better than happy tears," he said. Then, "Well, almost nothing."
       I knew what he was referring to, and I laughed.
       * * *
       Later that afternoon, I was introduced to the gym and to working out. Kyle and Justin were showing me how to use the machines and the free weights. They were both in just their underwear, which were snow white bikini briefs that had a little pouch in front that they both filled up nicely. I had seen them naked the night before, but they looked even sexier in those briefs than they had bare-assed. I was having trouble concentrating on what they were telling me. I had on a borrowed jockstrap and gym shorts, and it was a good thing, too. I was hard.
       "Hi, guys," Kevin and Rick said when they came into the gym. They were still dressed up from work.
       "Hey, Bubbas," Justin and Kyle said. I told them "hi," too.
       "Can y'all take a break? We want to talk to you," Rick said.
       "Yes, sir," Kyle said for all of us.
       "Get towels, and let's sit down in the clubhouse," Kevin said.
       We followed them in there, wiping sweat from our bodies.
       "I talked to your mother again after you all left," Kevin said. "They won't be coming in two weeks."
       I felt my stomach hit the floor.
       "When are they coming?" I asked.
       "They aren't coming at all," Kevin said. "Your mom said she talked it over with your dad, and they're satisfied you're in a good place and want you to stay here with us."
       When he said that, I got so excited I couldn't stand it. I jumped up, and they all stood up, too. I hugged Kevin and Rick. I knew I was still sweaty and would be getting them dirty, but I couldn't control myself because I was so happy. Then I hugged Kyle, and then Justin.
       "This fucker's got a hard-on," Justin said.
       "Oh, no, Justin! You mean to tell me a boy in this family has an erection?!" Rick said. He was being dramatic for fun.
       "Shut up, asshole," Justin said to Rick.
       "No, Justin. This is big stuff. Let's call the TV stations. Maybe they'll come out and do a live story for the Six O'clock News."
       Kevin, Kyle, and I were laughing so hard we could barely breathe.
       "If you don't shut up, I'm going to throw your ass in that fucking pool," Justin said, also laughing.
       "Do it, Justin. Maybe feeling your studly hands on me will give me an erection," Rick said.
       "Shit. I didn't think you could get one," Justin said.
       "Ask Brian," Kyle said.
       We were all laughing so hard by then I was afraid we'd all pee our pants.
       "Oh, Kyle, you are the devil," Justin said.
       "Sean, these two would never lay a hand on any of us, or anybody but each other, for that matter," Kyle said. "I was just teasing him."
       "I know," I said. "It feels so good to be here. I love you all so much."
       "We love you, too, Bubba," Rick said. "Hell, we even love Justin, so you know we're going to love you."
       "I'm going to my room to cry," Justin said.
       "No, you ain't. You're going to take a shower with us, and then you and me are going to cook a 'Welcome to the Family' dinner for Sean. I already took out the steaks. Somebody call the Townhouse Boys and tell them to get their asses over here to eat," Kyle said.
       Kyle, Justin, and I took a shower together in the shower room in the clubhouse. Needless to say, being in there with them, as close as we were, gave me an erection. Kyle and Justin were playing around, trying to grab each other, and that's all it took.
       They both noticed, of course.
       "Bubba, there's no shame in a hard-on around here, unless you start playing with it. Yours or somebody else's. They're natural. Everybody gets 'em, especially young boys. Just leave it alone and ignore it. That's what we do in public," Justin said. He was being serious, and I appreciated that. It was still embarrassing, though.
       "What about the young girls? Don't they get 'em, too?" Kyle asked.
       "Jesus Christ! I'm surrounded by fucking fools," Justin said.
       "Yeah, but you love us, don't you?" Kyle asked playfully.
       "Yeah, I do, and I reckon that makes me one, too," Justin said.
       "Come on, Davis. Come on, Kelly. Finish your shower so we can cook," Kyle said.

Chapter 12

(Jeff's Perspective)
       Kevin called about 5:30 to tell us Kyle was cooking and we were expected. The four "Townhouse Boys," as they had started calling us, were in the living room having a beer to celebrate the end of the work week. That was our "family time," the equivalent of Sunday morning on North Lagoon Drive.
       "It's Kevin. They want us to come over to eat," I said to the group.
       "Yes," Tyler said, and Chuck and Tony said "yes," too.
       "Did you hear them? We all said 'yes,'" I said.
       "We're going to eat at seven or 7:30, but come a little earlier so we can have a drink. Sean's parents gave permission for him to live with us," Kevin said.
       "Great. I can't wait to get to know him," I said.
       "He's a cutie, Jeff, and he seems like he's a great kid, too. Thanks for making him want to come to us," Kevin said.
       "Sean's parents gave permission for him to stay here," I said to the others.
       "He's a nice boy, Jeff. We met him today," Chuck said. "Sort of shy. Sort of refined. Kind of like you, in fact."
       "Are you buttering me up? Because you're not getting into my pants, if you are," I said.
       They laughed.
       "I wonder what a stick of butter would feel like?" Tony asked.
       We laughed.
       "You all realize what's happening to us, don't you? We're turning into them," I said.
       "Is that so bad?" Chuck asked.
       "No. Of course not. I just wanted you to know it's happening, is all," I said.
       "Do you all think the four of us could ever be like Kevin and Rick? And take in kids, I mean?" Ty asked.
       Chuck and Tony looked at each other, and I could tell that they, too, had talked about it.
       "Guilty," Tony said. "We make enough money to do that, and, yeah, we'd like to, eventually. We've talked about getting married, too. Or having a commitment ceremony, at least."
       "Jeff and I have been talking about that, too," Tyler said. "Wouldn't it be cool if we had a double wedding?"
       "Shit, that would be awesome. Man, that would be more than awesome," Chuck said. "Are you guys close to that, yet?"
       "We're there," I said.
       "So are we," Tony said. "God, almighty! Would the guys have a fit, or what?"
       "I can just see Kyle," Tyler said. "He'll have multiple orgasms for days on end over this."
       We all laughed.
       Ty and I had decided weeks before that's what we wanted to do, but we hadn't said anything to anyone. I was glad our best friends were the first to know. We had both felt for a long time that we were committed to each other, but we were ready to make it public. We were both twenty-three, and we knew there would never be anybody else for either of us, as long as we were both alive. I had talked it over with Clay in my mind, and he had insisted that Tyler and I do it. I knew that was weird, but Clay was still with me, and I suspected he always would be, at some level, at least. The only person I would ever tell about Clay, if I ever told anyone, was Kyle.
       "Who wants another beer?" Chuck asked.
       We all said we did. He brought those out, and then he got a can of mixed nuts, a jar of pickled okra, a jar of olives, a hunk of cheese, a box of Ritz crackers, and a knife. He put them on the coffee table.
       "I love being formal like this," Tyler said.
       "Shut up and eat, asshole," Chuck said, and we laughed.
       We really were turning into Kyle, Justin, and Rick, and that made me feel very good.
       * * *
       We made a big to-do over Sean, and he was basking in it all. It was one thing to become part of that family because a social worker needed a foster placement for you, but it was truly another to find the family on the Internet and run away on a Greyhound bus to join it. Sean really wasn't like the other boys.
       "Did you write an entry today?" Sean asked me.
       "No. I didn't have time yet," I said.
       "Are you going to write about me coming here?" he asked.
       "No, I really don't think I am. Your coming here is like a miracle or something, but what if ten boys show up here next week? What are we going to do with them?" I asked.
       "True," he said.
       "I know Kevin and Rick have more beds, but there's a limit to how many they can handle, both physically and emotionally. If you haven't figured this out yet, Kevin and Rick love the boys they get," I said.
       "Yeah, I know that. I've already felt that love," he said.
       "So, I'm not going to write about you. At least not about the way you got here. You'll be part of the blog. I just won't say you showed up unannounced," I said.
       We had drinks before dinner, as we usually did at a party, and I noticed Sean had one, too. He smoked a couple of cigarettes, too, and that really didn't matter one bit. Clay smoked, and I used to when we were together. Kyle used to smoke, too, and so did Rick, I've been told. None of us in the townhouse smoked, though, and that was the way I liked it.
       We were all at the table after we had finished eating. I decided to take the lead and broach the subject of a commitment ceremony.
       "Guys, listen to me, please," I said.
       Kyle, Justin, and Brian were playing around, and I knew they hadn't heard me.
       "Kyle. Justin. Brian. Shut the fuck up. Jeff wants to say something," Rick said.
       "Sorry," they each said.
       "My brothers, Tyler and I, and Chuck and Tony, want to make permanent commitments to our partners. And we want it to be a double ceremony," I said.
       There was dead silence for a few moments while they were processing what I had said. Then all hell broke loose. Kevin, Rick, Kyle, and Justin got up and came over to us, as though on cue. They picked us up and put us on their shoulders. They marched us around the patio. The other guys joined in the march, and the dogs were barking their heads off. Somebody put on the theme from Rocky and turned it up loud on the outside speakers. We had a triumphal march around that yard.
       The neighbors to the east were the Spencers, and they came over to see what the hell was going on. The two boys spied the left-over food on the table--steaks, corn on the cob, pasta salad, green salad, twice-baked potatoes, rolls. It was pretty obvious they were hungry for that stuff.
       "Guys, get all you want. We're finished dinner," Kyle said. "Reid, get you some of that pasta salad. That's good stuff, man."
       "I will," Reid said.
       "David and Jimmy. Reid and Wade. These four boys are going to have a double commitment ceremony. They just told us tonight," Kevin said.
       Those four guys applauded, and our guys joined in.
       "Awesome," David said, and he looked at Wade and Reid.
       "I want to organize the whole thing," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, do you think for one minute I would ever settle for anybody else organizing it but you?" I asked.
       "We go back a ways, don't we, Bubba?"
       "Yes, we do, Kyle. A long way," I said.
       "I'm so happy for you, I'm about to cry," Kyle said.
       "I know. He's wonderful, isn't he?" I said.
       "Yes, and it puts Clay to rest forever," Kyle said. "Don't you think?"
       "I won't ever forget Clay, Kyle. He and I were just as committed as Tyler and I are. But death did us part. Tyler is wonderful about Clay, too. He's not the least bit jealous or resentful," I said.
       "I know he's not. I love Tyler, Jeff. Not like I love you because I don't love anybody like I love you. I love Tim with all my heart, but it's a different kind of love with you. I love you like you were Clay," he said.
       "Thank you, Kyle. Will you be my Best Man?"
       "Of course I will be. You try to stop me," he said.
       He was crying happy tears for me, and I was crying them, too, for our relationship.
       "What's going on here?" Tyler asked.
       "Very happy tears, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "Come here, guy," Tyler said, and he grabbed Kyle in a big hug. "Are you happy for us?"
       "I'm so fucking happy, I can't stand it," Kyle said. "You know Jeff is my brother, don't you?"
       "Yeah, I know it. I want you to be my brother, too," Ty said.
       "You are, man. You definitely are, that's for sure," Kyle said.
       Ty started crying those happy tears, too, and the three of us joined in a big hug.
       "When do y'all want to do this thing?" Kyle asked.
       "I don't know. Around Christmas, maybe? You tell us, Kyle. How long will it take to organize?" I asked.
       "We've got to find a good date. Kevin and Rick had theirs on Christmas Eve. That's not good, though. That's when we'll be in New Orleans. Christmas Day isn't good, either. How about the day after Christmas?" Kyle asked.
       "It would be easy to remember our anniversary if we did it then," Tyler said.
       "Yeah, it would be," Kyle said. "I wonder what day of the week that is. Let's check a calendar."
       Ty, Kyle, and I went inside and checked the calendar. Christmas that year was going to be on a Friday, which meant that the day after was a Saturday.
       "Damn. It's a miracle. You couldn't ask for better than that," Kyle said. "Let's have it at the Laguna, okay? One hundred percent catered. All the best. Open bar. Beef carving station. Pork carving station. Lamb chops out the wazzu. I see it now. This is going to be fabulous."
       "Whoa! Who's going to pay for all of this?" Tyler asked.
       "That don't even matter, Ty. It'll be taken care of, don't you worry. What's my daddy going to do? Sue you if it doesn't get paid for?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, and fire us, too," Ty said.
       "You don't really get it, do you? Jeff is my brother. That means he's their son. Y'all are fixed for life, just like I am. Now, you're going to have to work, just like I am, but financially, you don't have a worry in the world," Kyle said. "And this is the next generation talking, too."
       "You're a blow-hard, Kyle," Tyler said.
       "I ain't touching that one. No way," Kyle said.
       "That is pretty loaded, isn't it?" Ty said.
       "Yeah, and fixing to shoot off at any second," Kyle said.
       All of us were laughing.
       "Listen, guys," Kyle said, when we had settled down, "it's going to be real nice, but I won't break the bank on this thing. I might act like a fool, but I'm really not one. This is going to be a celebration of love and commitment, and it's going to be something everybody remembers. Y'all are going to have to trust me, okay?"
       "Kyle is really revved up about this wedding, isn't he?" Tyler said later in the evening.
       "Yeah. I knew he would be, though. He loves all four of us, and he loves nothing more than giving a party," I said.
       "I know. I want you so bad right now, I can hardly stand it," he said.
       "Me, too. Let's go home," I said.

(Tyler's Perspective)
       Jeff and I made love that night like we never had before. It was the most emotionally satisfying event of my life, and I felt as though we each surrendered the last vestige of our private selves to the other. Sex with Jeff was always wonderful, but that night it went beyond wonderful. It was sublime.
       "We've got some calling to do," I said the next morning.
       "I know," Jeff said. "Your parents. My brother. Your brother. Who else?"
       "Do you want to call the Goodsons?" I asked.
       "Yeah. For sure," he said.
       Everybody greeted our news with joy and happiness.
       My mother started crying when I told her.
       "Mom, are you okay with this?" I asked.
       "I can't remember when I've seen your mother this happy, son," my dad said. "We're so proud of you and Jeff we could burst. We want to help with the cost of everything, you hear? Let us know what's going on. It looks like it's going to be Christmas in Florida this year."
       "It'll be fun, Dad," I said.
       "Oh, it'll be wonderful," he said.
       My brother was happy for us, but he was somewhat less overwhelmed than my parents. Typical guy. His first question was where were we going on our honeymoon, and that was something we hadn't even thought about yet.
       Jeff called Gene and Rita Goodson and told them our news.
       "How did they react?" I asked, when he got off the phone with them.
       "They loved the idea. They want to pay for it," he said.
       "My parents want to help with the cost, too," I said.
       "That's amazing. They didn't say anything, but it wouldn't surprise me if Kevin and Rick want to help, too," he said. "We might end up making money on this deal."
       Nothing had really changed in our relationship, but it seemed that everything had changed. I used to wonder what I would do if Jeff and I broke up, but now I knew that would never happen. Jeff wasn't a perfect person, and I certainly wasn't. But, all of a sudden, nothing he did annoyed me anymore, and I had the sense that nothing I did annoyed him, either.
       I could tell the difference with Chuck and Tony, too. The four of us in that townhouse were as happy as any four people could be. Chuck and Tony really didn't have any family, other than us and the guys on North Lagoon Drive, but that was just the way things were. They got a huge amount of love and support from us, and that was really all they needed.

(Justin's Perspective)
       "What do you think about Jeff and Ty, and Chuck and Tony?" Brian asked me.
       We were in bed, and Brian had just fucked me. I could still almost feel him inside me, and the feeling was so good. From being a pure bottom at first, that boy was turning into quite a good top. He was bigger than me, and he filled me up good.
       "I think it's a great idea. What about you?" I asked.
       "I do, too," he said. "Would you like to do a double ceremony like they're doing?"
       "I don't see how it can happen any other way. We're not going to let them be first, and I know Kyle damn sure won't let us be first. Unless we do it together, somebody's going to be first," I said.
       "I think you're right, Buddy," he said.
       There was a tap at the door, and then somebody tried to turn the door knob. It was locked, though.
       "Open up," Kyle said in a loud whisper.
       "Go away. We're trying to make love in here," I said.
       "No, you're not. I smell cigarette smoke coming from this room," Kyle said.
       "Let him in, Buddy," Brian said.
       "Oh, I will. I just want to play with him a little bit," I said. "That ain't cigarette smoke. It's smoke caused by passionate fucking."
       "Yeah, right. Who you fucking? The Marlboro Man?"
       Brian and I both laughed at that line, and I heard Tim out there laughing, too. I got up and let them in. They were in their underwear, but Brian and I were both naked.
       "Yeah, y'all were making love. Your dicks ain't even hard," Kyle said.
       "What do you want?" I said. I was grumbling, and so was he.
       "We want to talk to you, that's what we want. Were y'all surprised tonight about Jeff and them?" Kyle asked. They each took a chair, and Brian and I sat up in bed.
       "I was a little surprised. I wasn't surprised they want to make a commitment. I knew both couples were committed. I just don't really think in terms of weddings and stuff like that," Brian said.
       "I was a little surprised, too, Bri, for the same reasons you were," Tim said.
       "Do you think y'all will ever do that?" Kyle asked.
       "Ain't no question, Kyle. I'm ready to do it right now," I said.
       "So am I. Let's go find a justice of the peace and elope," Kyle said. "We can tie some sheets together and climb out that window."
       He was on one tonight.
       "How much did you have to drink?" I asked.
       I knew he wasn't drunk. After the wedding news, he got too busy planning the party to even remember to have a drink.
       "None of your damn business," he said. "How much did you have?"
       "None of your damn business, either," I said.
       "Were you even able to make love to your boy? Could he get it up, Tim?"
       Brian and Tim were laughing. They liked it when Kyle and I teased each other like that, although sometimes we got on their nerves if it wasn't all that funny.
       "I got it up just fine, thank you," he said. "Did you?"
       I came all over my stomach and chest when Brian was fucking me, and I had used a wash cloth to clean up. It was right next to me on the night stand. I picked it up and threw it at him. It hit his bare chest.
       "Tell me that ain't what I think it is," Kyle said.
       "That's the proof," I said.
       "Jesus Christ, Justin. That's the nastiest thing anybody has ever done to me. You have well and truly grossed me out," he said.
       It was pretty nasty, but I knew he wasn't one bit grossed out. He was acting, and I could see it in his eyes.
       "You ain't grossed out," I said.
       "You don't think having somebody fling a wet cum rag at me would gross me out?" he asked.
       "No, I don't," I said.
       "Well, you're right," he said.
       We all laughed.
       "Buddy, that was pretty nasty," Brian said.
       "That kind of stuff don't bother me, Bri," Kyle said. "What's a little smeared cum among friends?"
       "See, I knew that," I said. "Is that your newest motto? What's a little smeared cum among friends?"
       "It is from now on," Kyle said. "But that's not your cum, is it?"
       "Yeah, it's mine," I said.
       "I thought you always wore a rubber," he said.
       "I do, but not when I'm the bottom," I said.
       He was dead still. I knew that was a surprise to him, and I couldn't wait to see how he reacted.
       "You were the bottom tonight?"
       "Yeah," I said.
       "When did this start?" he asked.
       "A few months ago. We're versatile now," I said.
       "Why didn't I know this? Did you know, Babe?" he asked Tim.
       "No," Tim said.
       "Kyle, you don't have a right to know everything we do," I said.
       "I know I don't, but this is a major break through. My best friend starts getting fucked by my other best friend, and neither one of 'em says a word to me about it?" he said.
       "Well now you know," I said.
       "Congratulations. I'm happy as I can be for both of you. It feels good, doesn't it? To get fucked, I mean."
       "Yeah, it feels good. It feels damn good," I said.
       "I know. Jus, you've come a long way, Bubba, and I'm so happy for you, I can't stand it," he said.
       He really did seem sincerely happy about me getting fucked. I hadn't really thought about it like that, but I guess it really was a pretty important development for me and Brian, considering my history, and all.
       "And it doesn't hurt you or anything?" he asked.
       "No, it doesn't hurt. He knows what he's doing," I said.
       "I'm sure he does, but I'm going to have to take your word for that," he said. "Changing the subject. Do y'all think you'd like to have a double ceremony like Jeff and them?"
       "We were just talking about that before you guys came in," Brian said. "And, yeah, we would."
       "We would, too," Tim said.
       "But not for a few years. It's tacky to get married when you're a junior in high school," Brian said.
       That made us all laugh.
       "Or a senior," Tim said.
       "Are you nervous about next week?" Brian asked.
       "Yeah, kind of, but not really," Tim said.
       "What are you nervous about, Babe?" Kyle asked.
       "This coming week the College Board announces the semi-finalists," Tim said.
       "Oh, yeah. You told me about that. But you're good, aren't you?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, but I want the letter," Tim said.
       "You could have mine, if I knew where it was. If I even still have it," Kyle said.
       "You didn't save your letter?" Brian asked. He said it like, "You didn't save the crown jewels?"
       "He's got it. I know right where it is. His finalist letter, too," Tim said.
       "I got my Eagle medal. I know where that is. Sort of," Kyle said.
       "Stuff doesn't matter to you, does it?" Brian said.
       "Stuff like that doesn't. Do you know what matters to me?" he asked.
       "What?"
       "This boy right here." He put his hand on Tim's knee. "And the two boys in that bed right there. And those two men downstairs. And my parents. And Jeff. That's it. That's all that really matters to me."
       Everybody got real quiet after that. We knew he wasn't telling a lie.
       "Move over," Brian said to me. I scooted as far as I could without falling off. I knew what Brian was fixing to do.
       "Get in," Brian said, flipping the covers back. "Sleep with us tonight."
       The two of them dropped their underwear, and they got in bed. Nobody said anything after that. Tim was closest to the light, and he turned it off. I was spooned up to Brian and had my arms around him. He was spooned up to Kyle, and Kyle was spooned up to Tim. There wasn't any sex, and there wasn't ever meant to be any.
       I thought about what mattered to me, and it was the three people in that bed with me. I wished it was bigger because Kevin and Rick belonged there, too. I knew those two would never get naked in a bed with the rest of us, but, if they would, that would be my world. Right there. Brian would probably add Trixie and Krewe to the bed, but not me. It was just my boys.
       I heard somebody sniffle. It wasn't Brian because I would have felt that. Pretty soon, all four of us were softly crying happy tears. We didn't need to say anything. We all knew.

(Sean's Perspective)
       I woke up around nine on the Saturday morning after the engagement party, or whatever it was. I knew from Jeff's blog that they hung around in the den in just their underwear on weekend mornings, so I crept downstairs in just my boxers. I was dressed all wrong. They were all in briefs or bikini briefs.
       I turned around before anybody saw me and went back upstairs. I had one pair of briefs to my name, and I couldn't remember if I had packed them or not. My clothes were still in my suitcases, and I couldn't find them. I crept back downstairs to the second floor. I opened the door to what I thought was Kyle and Tim's room to borrow some underwear. They had made their bed, and I made a mental note to make sure I made mine later. I opened the second drawer in their chest of drawers, and I found gold.
       I picked up the top pair of briefs and held it up. It was a bikini, and it had a tag on it that let me know they had come from J. C. Penney. That wasn't a place I ordinarily shopped, but I'd have to get there somehow. The front of the bikini was shaped into a pouch. Seeing that made me start to get hard. I was confused. I didn't have an underwear fetish. Why was I boning up?
       Anyway, I pulled my boxers off and put the bikini on. It was very soft and very tight, and it felt very good. I went back up to the third floor and threw my boxers toward my suitcases. I'd take care of that later. I had to get downstairs.
       "Morning, Bubba," Kevin said when I entered the room. The rest said something like "good morning," too.
       "There's food and drink on the buffet in the dining room," Rick said. "Help yourself."
       There was quite a display of food in there. There was an almost-empty warmer of very light-colored scrambled eggs. Another warmer had link sausage and bacon, and a third warmer had grits. The grits were an orange color, so I figured they were cheese grits. There was a partial loaf of bread next to a toaster, so I put a couple of slices in it to make myself some toast. There was also a bowl of cut-up fruit, and I got some of that, too. There were four boxes of dry cereal, but I didn't want any of that. There was milk for the cereal, half-and-half for the coffee, and cartons of two different kinds of fruit juice. I drank down a small glass of juice while I waited for the toast to make, but I was going to have coffee with my breakfast.
       "Did you sleep good?" Rick asked when I went back into the den with my breakfast.
       "I slept great," I said. "That was a fun party last night."
       "That was a 'welcome to the family' party for you, but those guys upstaged you, didn't they?" Kyle said.
       "That was for me?" I asked. Nobody had ever given a party for me before.
       "Yeah, it was for you," Justin said. "We don't get a new brother every day, you know. Especially one from a foreign state."
       "He's from Virginia. That ain't a foreign state, asshole. That's one of the United States of America. You've been there, in fact. That's where ole George Washington's house is. Don't you remember that?" Kyle said. He sounded angry.
       "Kyle, the dogs need a walk. Take 'em," Justin said.
       They all laughed when he said that.
       "How can you think Virginia is a foreign state?" Kyle demanded.
       "I misspoke, okay? I know it's not a foreign county. I meant it wasn't Florida," Justin said.
       "Yeah, but you're so fucking dumb, we got to get to the bottom of how serious your misunderstanding really is," Kyle said.
       "I know this much, Goodson. I know I can kick your ass all the way to Virginia, and I'm right close to doing it, too," Justin said.
       Kyle laughed, and that's when I knew they weren't really fighting.
       "Do you know what the Virginia Dare is?" Kyle said.
       "Don't try to trip me up. That ain't a dare. She was the first white child born in the thirteen original colonies," Justin said.
       I was impressed.
       "Yeah, but who was the second?" Kyle asked.
       "Her brother. Dontcha," Justin said.
       Kyle got it before anybody else did, and he started laughing. Gradually, everybody in the room got the pun.
       "I think that's the best 'got you last' you ever did, Bubba. Put it there, man."
       They stood up, shook hands, and hugged.
       "Jus, that was pretty damn clever," Kevin said.
       "Thanks. I don't know where it came from, though," Justin said.
       "It came out of your brain," Brian said.
       "His dick, more like it," Kyle said.
       "Dick? Brain? What's the difference?" Justin asked.
       "I know. We think with both of them, right?" Kyle said.
       "I damn sure do. More dick than brain, too," Justin said.
       "You and me both, Bubba," Kyle said.
       Tim and Brian were sitting on one of the sofas, and Kyle and Justin were in front of their respective boyfriends on the floor. Tim and Brian both had their legs spread apart sort of capturing their boyfriends between their calves and thighs. Their bulges were bold and bright. What they were doing looked sexy as hell to me, and I wanted to be between some boy's legs like that in the worst way.
       The dogs came in just then, and they went right to the guys on the floor.
       "Damn! These dogs are all wet," Kyle said.
       The younger one, Krewe, was all over him, and Trixie was all over Justin.
       "Did you run 'em this morning?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, but I dried them off," Rick said. "They've been in the water, it looks like."
       Krewe chose that moment to shake off. Kyle jumped up.
       "God, I ain't believing this. They ain't never done this before," Kyle said.
       "Calm down. It's only water," Rick said.
       "I know it is, but I'm 99% sugar, and I'm going to melt," Kyle said.
       Everybody in the room laughed hard.
       Kyle scared the dog, and she went and hid behind Kevin's chair.
       "Come here, Krewe," Kyle said in a very sweet voice. It was almost like baby talk. "Come and get me as wet as you can. That's it, girl. Just get Kyle as wet and nasty as you can. That's right. 'Cause all of me but my dick is going to melt, and I want to see what they're going to do with it when that happens."
       None of us could control the laughter. It made Krewe bark.
       "We're going to bronze it and put it in the Believe-It-or-Not Museum as the world's smallest dick," Justin said.
       More laughter.
       "I guess you got me last just now," Kyle said.
       "Thank you. Finally something honest out of you," Justin said.
       "Last night was honest," Kyle said.
       "I know it was, Bubba," Justin said. They were both very serious.
       "What happened last night?" Denny asked.
       "That's between us," Justin said.
       I was dying to know what they were talking about, but I knew not to ask.
       "What are we going to do today?" Kyle asked. "Ski?"
       "We can, but have y'all ever played paintball?" Rick asked. "I came across an ad for a place near here, and I'd like to play. I've never done that."
       "I have," I said. "It's awesome."
       "What is that? Painting your balls? Or somebody else's balls?" Justin asked.
       Laughter.
       "No. It's like a war. Everybody has a gun that shoots out little balls of paint instead of bullets. You hunt guys down and shoot at 'em. If you get a hit, the paintball explodes and marks you as injured or dead," Rick said.
       "I'm all over that," Kyle said. "Let's get a crowd together and do it."
       "Have you done this before?" Justin asked Kyle.
       "Yeah, I've done it. I promise you, you will love it. I'm surprised we haven't done this before. This is big stuff, Jus. They have national, and maybe even international, tournaments. It's like fighting a fucking war, man. They have referees and everything. It's great. You're going to love it," Kyle said.
       "Does it hurt?" Justin asked.
       "It stings a little bit when you get hit, but it's supposed to be the safest extreme sport there is. You wear goggles and a face mask. It might hurt bad if you got hit in the face. Wear long jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. I know it's hot, but they'll keep you from hurting so much if you get hit," Kyle said.
       "It sounds like fun to me," Justin said.
       "I am telling you. You are going to love it," Kyle said emphatically. "And wear a cup in your jock."
       Damn. I didn't have a jockstrap with a cup. I knew he was right, though.
       They got on the phone to the Townhouse Boys, and they all wanted to play, too.
       Off we went.
       * * *
       "Why am I here, Kyle? Where are you taking me?" Murray asked.
       "We're going to play paintball, that's where we're going. Weren't you listening at the house?" Kyle asked.
       "Is this like an Israeli-Palestinian thing?" Murray asked.
       "Yeah, and you're the only Israeli," Kyle said.
       "Are you picking on me because I'm Jewish?"
       "Yeah, 'cause the rest of us are Arabs," Kyle said.
       Murray laughed.
       "Why are we Arabs?" Justin asked.
       "'Cause we were born that way, that's why," Kyle said.
       "Is that another word for 'gay'?" Justin asked.
       "No, it's not. Just shut up and look at the scenery. It's too hard to explain," Kyle said.
       "I'll explain it to you later, Buddy. But Kyle's right. It's pretty complicated. Just know that Palestine and Israel are at war. Kyle was just teasing Murray because he's Jewish," Brian said.
       "Why would he tease him because of that?" Justin asked.
       "Because Israel is the Jewish state. Country, I mean," Brian said.
       "I'm glad you said 'country' instead of 'state.' I've been trying to learn my states. I know the Mormon state is Utah. Right?" Justin said.
       I thought Justin was pretty smart because of his quick come-backs and all the word play. It takes intelligence to be able to do that. But, my God, he had such little information. I was appalled.
       * * *
       The paintball war was a lot of fun. The teams ended up being the Townhouse Boys, plus Kevin, Rick, and Ken against the North Lagoon Boys, meaning Kyle, Tim, Justin, Brian, Denny, Murray, and me. They obviously had the advantage over us.
       "Come here," Kyle said when we started. "Let's plan our strategy. The must-get target is Rick. Kill him if you can, but he'll also be a great POW. Get his ass, one way or another. Tyler is second priority, and then Tony. Let's get 'em."
       That field was unbelievably good. It was all woods and meadows. We played that game from eleven o'clock until five o'clock, and it ended in a stalemate. I, for one, had a hell of a good time playing it.
       "Mass is starting right now," Rick said.
       "So what? We can go tomorrow," Kyle said.
       I wasn't a Catholic or anything else, but I was willing to go to Mass with them because it was a family thing. Those guys were so cool. I wanted to be with them every minute of every day. I had truly found my home.

Chapter 13

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Everybody was up and dressed for school or work when Rick and I went into the dining room. Somebody had made a pretty nice breakfast. There was a lot of bacon, which I knew was pre-cooked and warmed in the microwave, frozen waffles that had been heated in the oven on a cookie sheet, and a bowl of cheese grits that was left over from Saturday morning. There were ten of us in the house just then, and the breakfast room was way too small for everybody.
       They all told us "hi" when we came in.
       "Did you make all this food, Kyle?" Rick asked.
       "Yeah," Kyle said.
       "Thank you, Bubba," Rick said. "We appreciate it."
       "No problem," Kyle said.
       "Are you ready for your first day at your new school, Sean?" I asked.
       "I think so. I'm a little nervous about it," Sean said.
       "That's natural, but it'll be fine," I said.
       "I know," he replied.
       "Are you taking him in?" Rick asked.
       "I thought I would. Unless you want to," I said.
       "Naw, you do it. You're the spouse in charge of school," Rick said.
       "Well, I need to get going," Kyle said. "Weekend after next is the Indian Summer Seafood Festival, and Beta Rho is working. I'm in charge of that for our club. I've got some people to see first thing this morning." He leaned over and kissed Tim goodbye.
       "Y'all don't forget this coming weekend is Rob's christening. I hope everybody can go for that," I said.
       "Ain't no way I'm missing it," Kyle said.
       The boys who had been in the house a while said they were going, too.
       "I'm out the door," Kyle said. "Y'all have a good one."
       "Who's Rob, and what's his christening?" Sean asked.
       "Rob is our nephew, Sean. He's only three months old, and his christening is his baptism," I said.
       "Oh, cool," Sean said. "I know what a baptism is."
       "Would somebody refresh my memory about baptism?" Murray asked.
       "It's how somebody becomes a member of the Catholic Church, Murray. I'm not sure Jews have an equivalent of that, except maybe circumcision. Ritual circumcision, I mean. Not the medical procedure," I said.
       "Is it like Bar Mitzvah?" Murray asked.
       "No, Bar Mitzvah is more like our Confirmation."
       I was thinking hard. I knew there had to be some kind of Jewish connection to baptism. Suddenly I remembered.
       "I remember now. Murray, do you know the episode in the Bible where the Hebrews passed through the Reed Sea and became Israel?"
       "I thought it was the Red Sea," he said.
       "Red. Reed. Different translations have different words for it. Anyway, Moses parted the Sea and the people walked through it. When they came out on the other side, they were no longer the Hebrews. They were God's people, Israel. Well, baptism involves pouring water on the person's head to symbolize their passage through the sea. Just as Israel became the People of God when they did that, an individual joins the new People of God, which we believe is the Catholic Church, by passing through the waters of baptism," I said. "I'm kind of stumbling on this because I don't remember it all that well from high school, but I think that's about right."
       "Will I be welcome at that ceremony?" Murray asked.
       "Are you out of your mind? Of course you will be. You're family, man. There will never be a time when you aren't welcome at a family occasion," I said. "How well versed are you in Jewish beliefs?"
       "Not very well," he said. "I had a Bar Mitzvah, but it was minimal."
       "When you go to that baptism next weekend, I want you to pay real close attention so you can tell us about the Jewish elements you see in it, okay?" I said.
       "I'll try to do some research, too," he said.
       "Good. Find out as much as you possibly can and tell us about it," I said.
       "I never thought I would have to learn Judaism because I lived in a Catholic household," he said.
       "You live in a 'people' household, Bubba. Nobody gives a shit if you're a Jew or not," Justin said.
       "I know. I'm just not a very observant Jew," he said.
       "Why don't you think you're observant. I think you notice stuff as good as the next guy," Justin said.
       "He means he's not very good about observing the traditions and practices of Judaism," I said.
       "If you want to be an observant Jew, we'll respect that 150%, Bubba, and do everything we can to help you," Rick said.
       "No, I'm okay the way I am," he said.
       * * *
       Sean and I drove to school together that morning. In the future, he'd ride with Tim, probably, since Brian had an after-school job. That morning, though, I took him.
       "Kevin, I'm sorry I lied about attempting suicide," he said, once we were on the road.
       "I know. You did that to make us want to take you in, didn't you?" I asked.
       "Yes. I was desperate," he said.
       "I know, and it's all right, Sean. Rick and I understand," I said. "We're cool with you, Bubba. But no more lies."
       He nodded.
       We rode in silence the rest of the way to school. I knew the drill about registering him and all. I told the receptionist he was a new student, and she called Guidance to get him registered and scheduled. I took a seat in one of the banker's chairs they had in the reception area in case he needed me for something.
       "Kevin! It's so good to see you." It was Sally Ortega, the principal. She was passing through.
       "It's good to see you, too," I said.
       I was on the School Advisory Council of that school through Goodson, which was a major business partner of theirs. Gene had roped me into that the year before, no doubt as a preparation for his move to Destin. I had attended all the meetings, and I was interested in the school, since my kids went there.
       "Did you come to see me, or is it family related?" she asked.
       "It's family related. We have a new boy living with us, and he's enrolling this morning," I said.
       "Do you have a minute to talk?" she asked.
       "Yeah. He's in the Guidance Office now, but he's staying for the day. This one actually came with decent clothes, so we don't have to go shopping," I said.
       "Oh, I remember. The last few showed up with nothing."
       "Or close to it," I said.
       "Come with me," she said.
       Once we were in her office, she said, "Do you have the usual paperwork? You're always good about remembering to bring that."
       "This one's a little bit different. I've got his birth certificate and a power of attorney giving Rick and me full parental rights," I said.
       "That's fine. That's all we need," she said. "Let me get those copied."
       I handed her the documents. She called in her secretary, and she took care of making the copies.
       "So. You and Rick have an incredible bunch of boys in your care. I guess you know that, though," she said.
       "Yes, we know that," I said. "But it's always good to hear." I was smiling to match her smile.
       "Kyle and Tim brought us a hamper of lobsters a couple of weeks ago. Did you know that?" she asked.
       "No, honestly, I didn't, but I'm not surprised. Tim was our first, you know?"
       "I have a vague memory about his father being on a ship. Is that right?" she asked.
       "Exactly. But Tim's dad is back from war, and he's happily married, now. We've got our first Jewish boy. He's the first of any minority," I said.
       "Except sexual minority," she said.
       "Well, true," I said.
       "When's the first black kid coming?" she asked.
       "Whenever he shows up. He'll be welcome, too," I said.
       "I know he will be," she said.

(Brian's Perspective)
       I love my family so much. I fell apart when the puppy I had been working with got bitten by that snake and died, and they were there for me. I loved them for a lot of other reasons, too, of course, but the night that happened it really came home to me.
       Another thing that came home to me was that I knew I couldn't be a vet. I hadn't told anybody I was seriously thinking about changing my career field and going into veterinary medicine. Not even Justin, and I told him pretty much every thought that crossed my mind. Vets have to put animals to sleep sometimes, and I knew I could never and would never do that. And you can't be a good vet if you can't relieve suffering that way. No, it was going to be human medicine for me, like I had planned all along.
       The new guy, Sean, seemed really nice, although we hadn't gotten to know him very well yet. He was a very nice-looking kid, but he definitely wasn't my type. He had a lot of flashy clothes, and he seemed pretty intelligent, but it was almost like he was too good to be true. When he came downstairs Saturday morning, his hair was perfect. None of the rest of us even touched our hair first thing in the morning, and we seldom do more than put gel in it and run our fingers through it even when we "fix" it. He had also shaved. Nobody shaves on Saturday or Sunday at our house, unless there's something special going on. He did, though. Maybe he was just trying to make a good impression.
       "I wonder where Sean is?" Tim asked.
       "Did you tell him anything about going to lunch with us?" I asked.
       "No, I didn't know how to set it up. I don't even know if he has second lunch or not," Tim said.
       "I think most of the sophomores do have second lunch," I said.
       We didn't have long to speculate. We spotted Sean at a locker down the hall from us, and Tim and I walked down toward him.
       "Hey. We always go out to lunch together. Come with us," Tim said.
       He hesitated a little bit, and I found that somewhat strange.
       "Okay," he finally said.
       We went to the Starfish, as usual, and we introduced our new brother to Mom and Pop Sullivan. We also introduced him to Chad, who was the only one of our lunch bunch that he hadn't already met.
       "What's your schedule?" Tim asked Sean.
       "First is world history, second is PE, third is Algebra II, and fourth is chemistry," he said. "PE is swimming, and let me tell you something, there are some hot boys in that class."
       We all laughed a little.
       "You can get out of that by taking a proficiency test," Tim said.
       "Not on your life. The love of my life is in that class," he said.
       "The love of your life? What's his name?" Wade asked.
       "I don't know. All I know is, I'm going to marry him," Sean said.
       That made everybody laugh hard.
       "I think we've got a case of terminal hormones here," Reid said. "You're going to marry him, and you don't even know his name?"
       "Did I say something wrong?" Sean asked.
       He was cute. I'll give him that.
       "How do you know he's gay?" I asked.
       "Oh, he is. Or I'll turn him gay," Sean said.
       "Maybe he'll turn you straight," Reid said.
       "No chance," Sean said.
       "Is that why you hesitated when we invited you to lunch?" I asked. "Were you hoping to find Mr. Wonderful in the cafeteria and get to know him better?"
       He blushed a little.
       "That's it, isn't it?" I asked.
       "Stop picking on me," he said, but he said it jokingly, not in anger.
       "We never stop picking. It's the Code of the North Lagoon," I said.
       He didn't even know to be glad Kyle and Justin weren't there. They would have ridden him from here to Memphis if they had heard that conversation.
       We always got the buffet, but since he was dieting, Murray had ordered from the menu. He had broiled chicken, two vegetables, a little rice, and a house salad. We made him get unsweetened tea. He put some Equal sweetener in it but no sugar.
       "I know you're losing weight. How much have you lost?" Chad asked.
       "Twelve pounds," he said.
       "You look fabulous, Murray. How much more do you have to lose?" Chad asked.
       "My goal is to lose forty altogether," he said.
       "You're more than a quarter of the way there. That's good. My mom was always trying to lose weight," Wade said.
       "One thing you have to remember, Murray, is we've been working you out pretty hard, too. You've probably lost more than twelve pounds of fat, but you've replaced it with muscle. Muscle weighs more than fat does. I mean, the volume of fat per pound is greater than the volume of muscle per pound," Tim said.
       "He's right, dude. You look like you've lost more than twelve to me," Reid said.
       "To me, too," Chad said.
       Even though Chad and Murray were both pretty effeminate, they didn't seem to be particularly good friends. Denny and Murray seemed to be much better friends than Murray and Chad.
       "I'm thinking about getting my hair highlighted," Sean said. "What do you guys think?"
       "I think you should," Murray was quick to say.
       "Get it highlighted in blue," Tim said.
       "Seriously?" Sean asked.
       "No. I was just kidding Murray. I think your hair is too dark to get it highlighted," Tim said.
       That was the tenor of our conversation at lunch. We talked about a whole range of topics. When Kyle, Philip, and Ryan were with us at lunch last year, we talked about sports and fishing and hunting a good bit. This wasn't really a sports-loving group, though.
       That evening, Sean was telling us all about his first day at Beachside.
       "I found out the name of the hunk," he said. "It's David Milligan."
       "I know him, and I know his brother, too. David's gay. At least that's what his brother told me," Kyle said.
       "He is?!" Sean said, all excited.
       "That's what his brother said. I don't know. He's in the GSA. I know that for a fact," Kyle said.
       "GSA?" Sean asked.
       "The Gay-Straight Alliance. It's a club," Kyle said.
       "Oh, please let it be so," Sean said.
       "It is so. I know he's in it," Kyle said. "Or at least he was last year."
       "No, I meant let him be gay," Sean said.
       "How'd you meet him?" Kyle asked.
       "He's in my swimming class, and he's in my chemistry class, too," Sean said.
       "Did you see him naked?" Justin asked.
       Sean blushed a little.
       "Look at him. He saw him naked. Did you throw a rod?" Justin asked.
       "You mean an erection?" Sean asked.
       "Yeah. A boner. A hard-on. A spike. A flagpole." Justin was on a roll.
       "A blue-veiner. A prong. A stiffy. A horn," Kyle added.
       "Sort of," Sean said.
       "Did you make anybody else get one?" Kyle asked. "Those things are contagious in a shower room."
       "I'm glad to hear you say that," Murray said.
       "Why? Did you get one in the shower at school?" Justin asked.
       "I don't take a shower at school. But I've gotten them there before," Murray said.
       "It's no big deal. Philip and I used to get 'em all the time when we showered in a group," Kyle said.
       "Is that because you're gay?" Sean asked.
       "If only the gay ones got 'em, we got a hell of a lot more gay dudes than straight dudes at that school," Kyle said. "I can't believe Milligan's taking swimming. He shouldn't be in that. That's a freshman class. Plus, he should have tested out of that," Kyle said. "He's a Beach Rat. That boy's been swimming all his life."
       "Well, maybe so, but he's in swimming," Sean said.
       "I don't know about this younger generation, Justin," Kyle said.
       "I know. You got to watch 'em like a hawk," Jus said.
       "That's right, Bubba. They need training," Kyle said.
       "Does that include us?" Tim asked, meaning him and me.
       "Y'all are trained," Kyle said. "And trained by masters, I might add."
       "Kyle, you're so full of shit," Rick said.
       "I know. I never once said I wasn't. But I was trained by a master, too, now, wasn't I?" Kyle said.
       "Sting. You got me last on that one," Rick said.
       "Believe it or not, I'm actually going to study tonight," Kyle said. "Read, really, but that's sort of like studying."
       "Stand back, everybody, so the lightening doesn't get us, too," Rick said.
       "Very funny, Richard. I'm actually going to read my chemistry book. And I'm going to take notes, too, like the 'good cop' taught me how to do. And then I'm going to read my book for my Introduction to Business class, and I'm going to take notes on that, too. And then I might actually do some statistics homework. You never can tell. This could turn into a fucking homework orgy," Kyle said.
       "Jeeze. I'm impressed," Rick said. "Baseball statistics?"
       "You are totally hopeless. I'm going upstairs to study," Kyle said. "Anybody coming with me?"
       He looked right at Tim, and Tim grinned. We all went upstairs to hit the books.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I couldn't wait for the weekend. We were going to New Orleans to be there when little Rob was baptized, and that was going to be something special.
       Everybody was going. We had ten guys living in our house, and every one of them was going. Add in the four Townhouse Boys, my parents, and Tim's parents, and it was quite a crowd. That was just the Florida people. The New Orleans bunch was going to be much bigger than that.
       "What's the schedule for the weekend?" I asked at breakfast on Tuesday.
       I had had to run off early the day before, but I didn't have a class until late morning on Tuesday.
       "I don't know. We haven't really talked about it," Kevin said.
       "Well, don't you think we should?" I asked.
       "When do you want to leave? This afternoon?" Kevin asked me.
       "Yeah, I can leave this afternoon," I said.
       "The earliest I can leave is Friday morning," Rick said. "And most of you have school on Friday. We need to leave Friday afternoon, after school."
       "Rick's right. Friday afternoon at three. Is that okay with everybody?" Kevin asked.
       "I'll need to clear that with Tony," Ken said. "Of course, Tony is going, too, so that probably won't be a problem. And I've got a ton of comp time. It won't be a problem, Kevin."
       * * *
       I was excited about that trip. The christening was scheduled for the six o'clock Mass at Cherie and Craig's church on Saturday night. That would give us part of Friday night and all day Saturday to show Murray and Sean the city. Ken, Chuck, Tony, and Tyler hadn't been there, either. At least not with us. Grandma and Grandpa Foley had planned a christening party for Saturday night, but we could probably go out after that, too.
       The trip over didn't amount to much. We had to divide people up, though. The Land Cruiser held eight. Ken and Rick from our house rode with the Townhouse Boys in Rick's Suburban. My parents and Tim's parents drove over in my mother's Lincoln.
       "My parents are really disappointed they can't put everybody up," Kevin said.
       "Well, God, almighty, Kevin. This is a bunch of people. They're not running a hotel," I said.
       "I know, but my mom wants the family to be together," he said.
       "We can sleep eight easily in the boys' house," Tim said. "That's about it with one bathroom, though."
       "I forgot to tell you guys about that. They put in another bathroom in the boys' house," Kevin said.
       "Where?" I asked.
       I figured they had cut into that smallest bedroom to do that.
       "On the yard side. You get to it from the hall back to the bedrooms," he said. "I have a mental picture of it. They said it extends out on the side, and there's a deck under it."
       "Damn. That'll work out just great, then," I said. "Especially when it's just the four of us living there. Each couple will have a bathroom."
       "That's why they did it, Kyle. They are so excited about you guys living there, they're going to make that place as good as they can for you," Kevin said.
       "Well, an extra bathroom will sure help," I said.
       "I know. Let's get back to the sleeping arrangements, though," Kevin said.
       "I know my parents and Tim's parents are going to want to be in a hotel. They can take you and Rick, Jeff and Ty, and Chuck and Tony in the house. Denny and Murray can sleep in the little bedroom, and Sean and Ken can sleep on the sofa bed in our place. It'll work out," I said.
       "I hate that Gene and Rita, and George and Sonya will have to stay in a hotel," Kevin said.
       "Kevin, my daddy will figure out some way to write it off, if he doesn't get comp nights," I said. "We're hotel people. We know how to do this."
       "Thanks, Bubba, for helping me with this," he said.
       "No problem at all," I said.
       We all got to Beth and Ed's house in New Orleans around eight o'clock. I was so hungry I could have eaten that house. They had a big spread of hors d'oeuvres set out for us, and two of the stuffed artichokes had little tags on them that said "Kyle." Miss Odille knew what I loved. There was also a pot of red beans that was thick with ham and a pot of shrimp creole that was the best I had ever tasted. There was plenty of fluffy white rice to go with both. She had tossed up a green salad that had her personal remoulade dressing on it, and there was a ton of that crispy French bread that you couldn't get anywhere else but in New Orleans. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
       "You better go easy on them beans, Kyle," Justin said.
       "Shut up. That doesn't bother me," I said.
       "I know. It bothers everybody else, though," Justin said.
       "I'll be careful," I said. "By the way, I do believe that's the cutest baby I ever saw in my life."
       "Thank you, Kyle. We think he's pretty special," Cherie said. "He's growing so fast, I can't keep him in clothes."
       "Kyle was that way, too, Cherie," my mom said.
       "We still can't," Justin said.
       "Very funny," I said.
       "He and his brother were terrible about that when they were little, Justin," Mom said. "I know there's supposed to be a gene for homosexuality, but is there also a gene for being a nudist?"
       They laughed politely. I didn't especially care for the direction that conversation was going in, though.
       "Nudity is the natural state," Craig said. "Nobody is born with clothes on."
       "Rita was," my dad said. Everybody laughed.
       "That's correct, Sweetie, and you should have been, too," she said.
       That made us laugh even more.
       "Mama got you last that time, Daddy," I said.
       "Yeah, I know," he said.
       By nine o'clock, everybody was through eating.
       "Are we going out tonight?" I asked.
       "We can if y'all want to," Craig said.
       "I want to," Justin said.
       We all wanted to go. Grandma and Grandpa were going to stay at home to keep the baby, and my parents and Tim's parents wanted to check into their hotel. It wasn't too far from Grandma and Grandpa's, though.
       We went down to the French Quarter to see what was going on. We divided up into two groups. Craig, Cherie, Denny, Sean, and Murray came with the four of us. Kevin, Rick, Ken, and the four Townhouse Boys hung together. We decided we'd meet up at the coffee and beignet place at midnight and make plans from there.
       "Are you guys interested in doing gay clubs?" Cherie asked.
       "Let's just walk around. If we see someplace interesting, we can go in," Craig said.
       "That sounds good to me," I said.
       We walked down Bourbon Street, and Sean and Murray were rubber-necking at all the sights. There was live music coming out of a bunch of places we passed. We went into one place that had a band on the patio. We put two tables together so all of us could sit together, and we ordered drinks. They weren't strict at all in New Orleans about checking ID, so Justin and I, and Craig ordered whiskey drinks. Craig actually placed the order. The rest of them got cokes.
       The music was pretty good. The band played out the rest of their set, and then they took a break. I noticed Sean checking out a boy at the next table. The guy was good looking, well dressed, and about twenty years old. They were making big-time eye contact. The other boy was at a table with two other guys, who were holding hands on top of the table. There wasn't much doubt about them.
       "Excuse me," Sean said, and he got up from the table.
       He went toward the building, which I guessed was where the restrooms were. The boy at the other table got up and followed him.
       "Did you see that?" Justin asked me. He was next to me, and he didn't say it loud enough for the rest to hear it.
       "Yeah. We'll give him a few minutes, and if he's not back in the time it takes to piss, we'll check on him. That other boy seems harmless, but you never know," I said.
       "We need to get his back if he needs us, but we don't want to bust up something, if he's hooked up with that boy," Justin said.
       "I know. Let's play it by ear," I said.
       I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes later, Sean wasn't back at the table. Denny was telling them all about the debate topic, so they didn't even notice.
       "Y'all excuse me," I said, and I stood up.
       "Yeah, me, too," Justin said.
       "He's been gone long enough," I said as we walked toward the restrooms.
       "I know. We've got to play this cool, you hear?"
       "I know," I said. "We ain't raiding the pisser. Besides, I really do have to piss."
       "Me, too," he said.
       That building was old, like everything else in the French Quarter. The floor and the walls were made out of bricks, and it wasn't very light in there. You could sure tell it was a men's room, too, from the odor when you opened the door.
       There was a trough urinal, and Justin and I sidled up side by side. We pulled out our dicks and started pissing. For some reason, when I have to piss bad, like I did just then, I often have to fart, too. I let out a big one.
       "That's what I was talking about with those red beans," Justin said.
       "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it," I said.
       "Well, at least you waited till you were in here to do it," he said. "Shhh. Did you hear that?" he whispered.
       I listened hard. Then I heard it. It was a moan coming from one of the stalls.
       I nodded.
       We shook off and put our dicks away. He motioned for me to follow him, so I did. We went into an empty stall. There was a hole with about a six-inch diameter cut in the plywood partition between it and the next stall.
       He pointed down at it. I squatted down and put my eye up to it to see what I could see. A guy was sitting on the toilet giving a blowjob to another guy standing in front of him. It was too low to see the faces, and it was too dark to make out the clothes they were wearing. That wasn't the first blowjob that boy sitting on the toilet ever gave, either. The one standing up was having him a good ole time, too.
       I stood up and motioned for Justin to look. He got him an eyeful and stood back up.
       Justin mouthed something, but I couldn't make it out. I squinted my face up to get him to repeat it.
       "It's Sean," he whispered.
       "What?" the boy in the next stall said.
       Justin and I were both laughing without making any noise. That made me let out a huge fart, and that made us laugh even more. Justin waved his hand in front of his face, like he was waving away the smell.
       "Oh! Oh! God!" one of the ones in the next stall said, and it was Sean's voice.
       Justin waved his hand back and forth like he was jerking off, and that made us both laugh even more.
       "Go," Justin mouthed, and I figured that out.
       I flushed the toilet to give us sound cover, and he and I sneaked out. Once we were outside, we busted up laughing.
       "It looks like ole Sean is going to have him a memory of New Orleans, and it ain't going to be of no christening," Jus said.
       "I know. Doing that was kind of shitty, but we had to be there if he needed help," I said.
       "Absolutely," Justin said. "That boy works fast, don't he?"
       "I'll say. Not that I want to learn his technique or anything," I said.
       "Neither me, but he ain't getting any at home. He needs it just as bad as you and me, Bubba," Jus said.
       "I know. Could you picture Murray in there?" I asked.
       "Hell, no," he said. "Murray's got a long way to go before he gets laid. Or sucked off."
       "Murray might surprise us all," I said.
       "Well, if he gets laid, he'll surprise the hell out of me," Justin said. "Do you think he even wants to?"
       "Well, of course. Everybody wants to get laid," I said. "It's human nature."
       "Yeah, I guess you're right," Justin said.
       Back at the table, they were talking about some intellectual shit about the Middle East and the Palestinians and the Israelis. Craig cocked his eyebrow at us when we got there. I sucked my cheeks in as far as I could and stuck my finger in my mouth to show that Sean was getting a blowjob. Craig grinned, and the rest of them didn't even know what was going on.
       "Everything come out all right, Bubba?" Justin asked Sean when he got back to the table. Sean lit up a cigarette right away.
       "Yeah," Sean said, and he had a mighty relaxed look on his face. I wondered if he had paid his new friend back.
       We had a second drink and sat through another set of the music. The guys at the other table left, but not without the one guy waving at Sean. Then it was time to go meet the others.
       As we were walking to the coffee shop, Justin and I hung back behind the others. Sean was with us.
       "Did you have a good time tonight, Bubba?" Justin asked Sean.
       "Yeah. I had a great time," he said. "The music was awesome. But you guys know, don't you?"
       "Yeah, but your secret's safe with us," Justin said. "We weren't spying on you. We were getting your back, if you needed it. Don't ever think different, okay?"
       "Okay," he said. "Thanks."
       That was all that was ever said.
       * * *
       The baptism ceremony Saturday night was nice. It was basically just Mass with the baptism thrown in right before the Offertory. Cherie's sister was the godmother, and Kevin and Rick were the godfathers. Those three looked so good standing up there with that baby. Little Rob was good during the ceremony, too. He made a little bit of noise when the priest poured the water on his head, but the priest said it was probably too cold for him. That made the people in the church chuckle. Why, I don't know. Why they didn't heat the water up, I didn't know, either. They had that big Easter candle lit right there. He could have passed that water over that flame a few times so that baby wouldn't have had to suffer. I put that on my mental list of things to discuss with Jerry the next time I saw him.
       It seemed like about half of the people at the church came home with us for the party. It wasn't as big a crowd as they had at their Christmas party, but it was substantial. The food was out of this world. They had these little oyster patty things. It was a puff pastry shell hollowed out, and they put some kind of unbelievably good oyster mix in there. I couldn't get enough.
       I went back to the kitchen to find out about those things.
       "Miss Odille. What do you call this thing?" I asked, holding one up.
       She laughed.
       "That's an oyster patty. Haven't you ever had oyster patties?"
       "No, ma'am, not till tonight. Would you give me the recipe?" I asked.
       She laughed again.
       "Kyle, I can't believe you haven't had oyster patties before. Can you get patty shells where you live?" she asked.
       "I don't know. Do they freeze good? Can I take some home from here?" I asked.
       "They freeze extremely well. I think we've probably got two hundred or more in the freezer," she said. "Take them all when you leave."
       "What about the filling? That's the best thing I think I've ever eaten," I said.
       "Do you know what a rue is?"
       "Yes, ma'am. That's flour browned in oil, right?" I said.
       "That's the start of it. Then you add the seasoning. Minced hard onion, minced green onion, minced celery, a little bit of minced green pepper, and little bit of minced garlic. Some people put in a little bit of minced parsley, too. About a cup's worth, with a half cup of flour. Fry that down until you have a nice brown paste and all the vegetables are clear. Low flame, now. Chop your oysters up into little pieces, and add those to the rue. Cook that a little while until the oysters start to shrivel around the edges. Make sure you put as much oyster water as you need to get it to the consistency in that shell you're holding. That's all there is to it," she said.
       "I'll be making these for the next party we have," I said.
       "Kyle, you can do the same thing, put it in a pie shell, and you've got oyster pie. What we're using tonight is a cocktail shell. You can get larger shells, about five inches in diameter, and it's a perfect first course. You can also serve it on oyster shells on rock salt as a first course. When I do that, I like to put a little parmesan cheese on top and stick it under the broiler until the cheese melts. People love it, if they like oysters," she said.
       "I don't know of anybody who loves oysters better than me," I said. "Mostly I eat 'em raw."
       "That's the way my husband and I like them, too," she said.
       "Well, you've opened a whole new world to me tonight, when it comes to oysters," I said.
       "I make 'em every way you can make 'em. Rockefeller, Bienville, Benedict, fried, poached, baked. Patties. Pies. You name it," she said.
       I grabbed her in a big hug and kissed her on the lips.
       "Thank you so much," I said.
       She giggled.
       "Get out of my kitchen, boy," she said, and I laughed, too.
       "Where the hell have you been?" Justin asked me when I went back to the party.
       "I've been in the kitchen talking to Miss Odille, that's where I've been," I said.
       "Have you tried one of these things? This is fucking fabulous," Justin said, holding up an oyster patty.
       "Yeah. I've been back there getting the recipe for it," I said.
       "This takes oysters to a whole new level," he said.
       "Yeah, I know, and I'll be taking 'em there myself as soon as I can," I said.
       * * *
       We went back to the Quarter again that night, but I don't think anybody got lucky like they did the night before. In fact, we ended up at the Cat's Meow, the karaoke place on Bourbon Street, and we had a good time. I sang a few, and we all danced.
       "Tim, I think you need to drive home tonight," I said.
       "I know I need to. Did you have a good time?" he asked. He was grinning.
       "Yeah, I did. Did you?" I asked.
       "I always have a good time with you. You know that. Kyle, I love you so much," Tim said.
       Cherie was right behind us, and she heard every word we said.
       "Guys! Get a room," she said.
       Tim and I turned around to look at her, and the three of us laughed.

Chapter 14

(Ken's Perspective)
       On my first day back at the office after my black eye episode, I decided I wanted to be fully out at work. Jeff, I believe it was, had made the point that nobody was going to approach me unless I explicitly came out because of the fact that I had been married. I knew he was right, and I decided to go for it.
       "Hi, stranger," the receptionist said when I walked into our office. "Were you sick, Ken? The board said you were out last week on sick leave."
       "Hi, Sandi. I had an accident, and I had a bad black eye. So, I guess you could say I had a medical condition but not really an illness," I said.
       "I wouldn't have noticed it if you hadn't said something, but now I can see a little shadow or something," she said. "What did you do this weekend? Anything interesting?"
       She was single, and she knew I was single again. She took more interest in me than she did in some of the other guys.
       "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did," I said. "I came out to my parents on Saturday."
       "Came out? What do you mean?"
       "I told my parents that I'm gay," I said.
       "But you're married. Or were," she said.
       "Yeah, but that was just a big mistake. Listen, it's a long story, and I need to check my work orders. I'm sure there are a bunch of them," I said.
       "Okay. Talk to you later," she said.
       I figured that was all it would take.
       I went back into the secure area of the office and sat at my desk in my cubicle. Just as I had predicted, there was a stack of work orders from the Help Desk. None of them were Priority 1's, though. Those would have been taken care of by somebody else, if there had been any while I was out. We ran a good shop in Information Services, and I was happy to see that Tony Miller was keeping up the standards.
       Before I left the building on any service calls, I always phoned the person who had put in the work order to make sure the problem was still a problem. Sometimes people call before they try the obvious things, like rebooting the machine. I eliminated four work orders just by making those calls. Then I got my tool box and set out to fix computers. I was actually a network service consultant, so most of the time I worked on servers and switches and such. We also had responsibility for things like the telephone systems and fire alarms, but that day it was only computer network problems.
       I spent my day working through the work orders. As usually happened, I had several, "Oh, while you're here . ." requests, but we weren't supposed to handle those unless it was a Priority 1 emergency. They were supposed to call the Help Desk so the problem could be properly logged and assigned to one of the consultants.
       By the end of the work day, I had taken care of about a third of my work orders. When I got back to the Goodson Building, there were more work orders on my desk.
       I had my own desk area, phone, and computer, but I shared the cubicle with another network consultant, a guy by the name of Dan Rutland.
       "I missed you last week, buddy," Dan said.
       He was about my age--twenty-five or so--affable, well built, and a knockout in the face department. I had worked side by side with him for a couple of years, but I really didn't know anything about him. I knew he wasn't married, but beyond that he was a mystery man to me.
       "Thanks, Dan," I said.
       "Sandi said you had a black eye. Is that right?" he asked.
       "Yeah. I had a little accident," I said.
       "She also told me something about you coming out to your parents," he said.
       "Yep. I finally bit the bullet. They were fine about it. Very accepting," I said.
       "Are you doing anything after work?" he asked.
       "Not really. What do you have in mind?"
       "Why don't you and I grab a beer and have a little chat about it?" he said.
       "I'd love to have a beer with you, but I'm really fine about the whole announcement thing," I said.
       "Cool. Let's go. Are you about finished?"
       "As finished as we ever are," I said.
       He chuckled. It was a standing joke in Information Services that it was impossible to ever truly get caught up.
       I met Dan at a sports bar near our office. They had a nice deck across the back where you could watch the Gulf and see some spectacular sunsets. It was still pretty hot, but we chose a table out there anyway. Dan was also a smoker, and, while it wasn't illegal to smoke in bars, a lot of places frowned on that. Outside was a different story.
       We ordered a pitcher of draft beer and two glasses. Dan ordered some potato skins to munch on, and I ordered nachos with chili. It was understood that we'd share the food.
       "So, you took the big step with your folks," he said. "And you said they accepted it well."
       "Yeah, they did. I think they would really like to see me get back with my wife. At least they did before I told them. Now I guess they know why Carolyn and I split up," I said.
       "I don't know how my parents would take something like that," Dan said.
       Would it ever come up? I wondered.
       "Is that an issue?" I asked. I didn't want to pry, but I felt as though he wanted me to ask.
       "Yeah," he said. "I'm gay, too."
       I didn't know what to say, and I suddenly felt very awkward.
       "I've known it all my life. I've never told them, though, because I didn't think there was a reason for them to know it. I mean, if I ever got a boyfriend, I'd tell them," he said.
       "So, you've never had a boyfriend?" I asked.
       "I dated some in college, and I have a good friend who's gay. But I've never had a serious relationship," he said.
       "Did you ever date girls?" I asked.
       "Of course. I suspect you and I are a lot alike in that regard. I've even had sex with a girl," he said.
       "I've only had sex with one girl, my ex, and with only one guy, and only one time with him," I said.
       "It sounds like we're about equally matched in the experience department," he said.
       "Yeah, I guess it does."
       We didn't dwell on our gayness after that, but we did get to know each other. I learned that he was my age, twenty-five, and that he had two younger brothers who were straight, as far as he knew. He grew up in a tiny town about fifty miles north of Emerald Beach, and his parents still lived there. He had an apartment that he shared with a roommate, who also happened to be his one gay friend. He liked to work out, which was obvious from his physique, and he went to as many movies as he could, often alone, but sometimes with his roommate.
       He had a delightful sense of humor. He was pretty quick witted, and he reminded me of the boys on North Lagoon Drive when it came to clever puns. The bottom line on Dan was that he was a hell of a nice guy.
       I told Dan about my family and that I had lived all my life in Emerald Beach "east of the bridge." He asked me if I had an apartment.
       "No, but that's going to change soon," I said. "I'm staying with some friends temporarily. Before that I was living with my parents, and before that, of course, I was living with my wife."
       "I tried living alone, but I couldn't take the loneliness," he said. "I get pretty lonely now, and I've got a roommate who is also a good friend."
       "Well, I've never lived alone. I lived at home until I got married. I went to college here," I said.
       We finished the food and the pitcher of beer, and then we both headed home. I decided I'd like to spend more time with him. He was friendly and likeable. I felt an attraction to him, but I wasn't ready to start dating him yet.
       * * *
       Dan and I started doing things together as friends. He called me a few times to go to movies, and we went out after the movie for something to eat. It turned out he rarely drank, for the same reason Rick Mashburn didn't drink, which made his invitation to have a beer that first day all the more significant, I thought. We drove up to Chipley, his hometown, one Saturday to see his parents.
       "Shit," he said, as we turned into the drive.
       "What's the matter?" I asked.
       "They're not here. I forgot they were going to Tallahassee this weekend. It's Parents Weekend at FSU, and that's where they are. Do you hate me?" he asked.
       I laughed.
       "Of course not. I enjoy your company, and I didn't have anything else to do today," I said.
       "Well, this is where I grew up," he said.
       The house was old, but it was large and obviously well maintained. It was on the outskirts of the town, and it appeared to have a good bit of land that it sat on. The lawn was deep green, and the azaleas around the house were enormous.
       Inside, the house had obviously been renovated and redecorated fairly recently. The kitchen was modern and sparkling, and the other rooms were nicely furnished. He showed me the room that had been his. There were posters on the wall and trophies on a couple of shelves. It wreaked of masculine adolescence, which certainly wasn't unappealing.
       We were standing in front of a display case examining a collection of little lead replicas of famous buildings. Dan turned to me, took hold of both of my shoulders, and kissed me.
       It was very soft and tender, tentative almost. I had wanted to do the same thing on several occasions, so I returned the kiss.
       "You aren't angry at me for doing that?" he asked.
       "No. I've wanted to do it, too," I said.
       "I didn't bring you here to seduce you, you know," he said. "I really did forget my parents wouldn't be here. Hell, they're always here."
       "Dan, I'm not ready to be seduced yet, but you'll have first shot at it, when I am," I said.
       He chuckled.
       "Do you consider what we've been doing together dating?" he asked.
       I hadn't thought of it in those terms, but that's what it was.
       "Well, yeah. Sort of," I said. "I certainly like you well enough to date you, and I hope you feel that way about me."
       "Yeah. Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "I've had a crush on you for two years. When you got married, I thought whatever chance I might have had with you was gone forever."
       "You never once came on to me. In fact, I didn't know you were gay until you told me you were," I said.
       "You had a serious girlfriend or were engaged. Then you were married. How would you have reacted if I had made a pass at you?" he asked.
       "I don't know. That might have been what it took to help me avoid the mistake of getting married. I knew I was gay when I did it; I was arrogant enough to think I could 'beat' nature," I said. "Did you think I might be gay before I told you?"
       "Not for a second," he said. "That's why I didn't try anything."
       We didn't stay long at the Rutland home. We went back to the town and cruised some of the shops on Main Street. Honest to God! That's what they called it. Main Street. The merchants down there had spent a good bit of money on downtown redevelopment, and there were three or four blocks of quaint and interesting shops. There weren't many people around for a Saturday, but we noticed several cars with out-of-state license plates parked along the street. It wasn't Emerald Beach on the Fourth of July, but there were a few tourists about.
       That evening Dan grilled steaks for us at his apartment. His roommate had plans, but I did get to meet him. Really, "greet him" would be a better way to put it. I actually already knew the guy. His name was Cory Smith, and he worked for Goodson as a programmer.
       We had a leisurely dinner, and the steaks were really very good. After we ate, we watched the DVD of True Lies, which had been one of my favorite movies since it came out. I loved the action.
       "This has been a great day, you know?" I said when the movie was over. We were sitting side-by-side on the sofa, not touching, but close.
       He took my hand in his, and that felt totally natural and totally right.
       "It has been a good day," he said. "Do we each have a boyfriend now?" he asked.
       "I do," I said.
       He smiled at me, and I smiled back. Then we kissed. It wasn't heavy make-out kissing, but it was a lot more than you might do with your father, say. It was the kiss of two men who were at the beginning of a relationship.
       "I really like you, Ken, but I'd like to take it slow," he said.
       "I was just thinking those exact words," I said.
       And we did take things slowly. Over the course of about six weeks, we became very close friends. We weren't lovers yet, but our kissing became more and more passionate. It was just a matter of time before we gave our bodies to each other, and there was something exciting and delicious in the build-up to that.
       * * *
       "There are some people I'd like for you to meet," I said.
       It was the middle of the afternoon on a Saturday. We had been out to a movie and to eat the night before, and we had just finished playing racquetball that afternoon.
       "Sure," he said. "Do they know we're dating?" he asked.
       "Yes, and they're dying to meet you," I said.
       "Damn. Who are they?" he asked.
       "Do the names Kevin Foley and Rick Mashburn mean anything to you?" I asked.
       He thought for a second. "Those names are familiar, but I'm drawing a blank," he said.
       "They're a committed gay couple that I've been staying with for the last couple of months. They run a foster home for gay boys. Right now there are ten of us living there, and there's a townhouse with two other gay couples that Kevin and Rick consider 'sons,'" I said.
       "Wow! That's incredible. I didn't know there was anything like that here," he said.
       "There is. Kevin and Rick are the two executive vice presidents of Goodson Enterprises, and one of the kids in the house is Kyle Goodson, the owner's son. Not only that, one of the guys in the townhouse is Tony Miller," I said.
       "Shit! You're kidding, right? The two EVP's of this place are gay?" he asked, almost in disbelief.
       "Yes," I said, "and they're not much older than we are. They're both twenty-seven."
       "And Mr. Goodson has a gay son? Did he kick the kid out, or something?"
       "Not at all. Gene Goodson had two gay sons, only the older one is dead. Some kind of medical accident. Gene and his wife are going to New Orleans with all of us next weekend for the baptism of Kevin’s nephew."
       I invited Dan to go with us, but he declined because of some kind of homecoming at his home church in Chipley. It happened every year in the fall, and he had said his parents considered his appearance at that thing to be a command performance. Naturally, though, he would have preferred to go with us.
       "Somebody said they thought Tony Miller was gay, but I can't remember who it was," he said. "Ken, you've just about rocked my world, man. How did you get to know these people?"
       I told him how it happened.
       "Damn. What an incredible set of coincidences," he said. "I can't wait to meet them. When can I?"
       "How about right now?" I asked.
       "I'm game, but I need to clean up first," he said. "Let's get a shower."
       The racquetball club had a shower room, and he and I had come prepared to use it. That was the first time we saw each other without clothes on. Naked, Dan's body was as impressive as I had thought it would be. He had played high school football and had been in wrestling, too. He was about six feet tall, and his pecs and abs were sharply defined. He had a good bit of hair on his legs and butt, but his upper body was smooth.
       "Do you shave your chest?" I asked.
       "Yeah," he said, grinning shyly. "It's a vanity thing."
       "Well, it looks damn good," I said.
       The whole time we were talking and checking each other out, our penises were lengthening and thickening. The place was deserted except for us and the girl at the desk out front. It occurred to me to be embarrassed and to try to hide my arousal. Then I thought, No, he's doing this to me, and I want him to know about it.
       We showered side by side, both of us fully erect. I was tempted to touch him, and once he looked like he was about to touch me. If he had, I wouldn't have objected, but I really wanted our first sexual encounter to be in more romantic circumstances than a shower at a gym. So instead of giving each other relief, we just washed our bodies under the hot spray of the shower. Our erections slowly went down.
       After we were dressed and ready to go, he took me in his arms and kissed me.
       "Thank you," he whispered.
       That was the moment I had been building to for two months.
       "I love you," I whispered. I hadn't intended to say it, but it was as though I couldn't hold it in any longer.
       "Oh, Ken. I love you, too," he said, and we kissed again.

(Dan's Perspective)
       When he told me in that locker room that he loved me, he unleashed a flood of emotion that was almost overwhelming. I had longed to hear those words, and I was certainly eager to say them to him. In the two months we had been dating, Ken had occupied my thoughts most of my waking hours.
       He was the first thing I thought of in the morning and the last thing I thought of at night. I wanted to see him every night, to spend all my time with him, in fact. We had said we wanted to take it slowly, and I didn't want to spook him by hovering too much. I could tell he was falling in love with me, though, and that Saturday at the racquetball club was the culmination of my dreams.
       We were in his car that afternoon. Neither of us said anything on the way to where we were going. It was a companionable silence, but I was thinking non-stop about him. I hoped he was doing the same about me.
       "Don't be surprised if a lot of them are naked when we get there," he said.
       "What? Where are you taking me?" I asked.
       He laughed.
       "They have a big pool in the yard, and it's definitely 'clothing optional' for swimming. I don't know who's home, but I'm sure some of the boys will be skinny dipping," he said.
       "Hmmm," I said. "You realize I'm probably going to get a hard-on again," I said.
       "If you do, that's okay. They'll ignore it. They know it happens," he said.
       Sure, I thought. Everyone knows that in theory, but it's one thing to ignore somebody else's hard-on, and another thing to ignore your own in a crowd of strangers.
       "Of course, we don't have to swim," he said. "Or we can wear suits. They have plenty around there."
       That eased my mind.
       The house was damned impressive from the front. There was a fleet of cars parked in the huge circular driveway in front of the house and up and down the straight driveway that led into the garage. I recognized Tony Miller's car.
       "It looks like Tony's here," I said.
       "Yeah, probably. The Townhouse Boys spend a good bit of time here," Ken said.
       "The Townhouse Boys?"
       "Yeah, that's what we call the ones who live in the townhouse. The ones who live in the house itself are Kevin, Rick, Tim, Kyle, Brian, Justin, Denny, Murray, Sean, and me. The Townhouse Boys are Tony and his partner Chuck, and Jeff and his partner Tyler. The Townhouse Boys are getting ready to have a double commitment ceremony right after Christmas," Ken said.
       "I won't be able to remember all those names," I said.
       "I know, but you will eventually. Those are all your new brothers," Ken said.
       "How do you figure that?" I asked.
       "Well, it's really metaphorical. They consider any gay guy to be their brother. I guess they consider lesbians their sisters, too, but that hasn't really come up. I don't think they know any lesbians. So you're a brother by default. But anybody who has ever lived here is also a brother, and that person's boyfriend is a brother, too. This is a really neat group of people, Dan," he said.
       I could tell he was excited about my meeting them, and that was very cute.
       The front door of the house was open, and we just walked right in. We entered a foyer and were immediately greeted by two huge Labrador Retrievers. They were both wagging their tails a mile a minute, and they both barked a short bark, as though they were greeting us.
       "Girls, this is Dan. He's my boyfriend," Ken said.
       They got so excited when he said that, you would have thought they knew what he meant. I got down to their level to greet them, and I expected to have wet dog tongues all over me. They didn't do that, though. They both nudged me with their snouts, but that was it. Somebody who knew what they were doing had trained those dogs.
       "Back, girls," Ken said, and they both sat down.
       "Wow! These two are amazing," I said.
       "I know. Aren't they? Brian is the dog master," Ken said. "Trixie, come and shake hands with Dan."
       The slightly larger of the two came forward, sat down, and put up her paw to shake with me. I shook it, and she went back to where she had been.
       "Krewe, it's your turn. Come and shake hands with Dan."
       The other dog did exactly the same thing.
       "I'm not believing this," I said.
       "I know. It's amazing, isn't it?"
       "Yes. It is definitely amazing," I said.
       He led us into a room that looked like it must be a den or family room or something. It was huge, and it had what looked like an incredible entertainment center on one wall and a big stone fireplace on another. There were two large leather sofas and other occasional chairs. There was a baseball game on the TV, but nobody seemed to be watching it. There were four guys in there, and they were all reading.
       "Hi, Bubba," one boy said when we went in.
       That attracted the attention of the others, and they all looked up. When they realized they had a new guest, they all sat up from the various reclining positions they were in to read.
       "Guys, I want you to meet my boyfriend. This is Dan Rutland. Dan, this is Murray Schultz, Denny Morgan, Jeff Martin, and Brian Mathews. Brian is the 'dog man' around here," Ken said.
       They each stood up, and I shook hands with each of them. We exchanged the usual introduction pleasantries.
       "Those dogs are well trained," I said to Brian.
       "Thank you," he said. "They work hard."
       The one he called Jeff was older than the rest of them. It was difficult to tell ages, but Jeff looked like he was about twenty-two or twenty-three. Brian looked like he was in his twenties, too, but it might just have been the fact that he had hair on his chest and heavy stubble on his face. None of them were wearing shirts, but everybody but Brian was smooth.
       "We know a good bit about you," Jeff said to me. "And I noted the term 'boyfriend,' guys. Congratulations."
       "Jeff lives at the townhouse with Tony and Chuck and Tyler," Ken said.
       "They're all outside waiting for you guys, Ken. Kyle and Justin are about to squeeze milk out of their nipples, they're so excited about meeting Dan," Jeff said.
       Whoa! No pressure on me there. I wondered what Ken had told them about me.
       "Let's go," Ken said. "Don't be nervous, okay? They already love you because I do."
       "What have you told them about me?" I asked.
       "That you're the greatest guy I've ever known," he said.
       He took my hand and squeezed it. He didn't let it go.
       Ken opened one side of the French doors that led onto a patio. The pool was just beyond that, and there were a bunch of boys and young men in it. From what I could tell, every one of them was naked.
       "Hey, look who's here," a kid with black hair and the face of a model said.
       He and a dirty blond Adonis jumped out of the pool and started toward us. They were stunning looking, but my eyes went immediately to their dicks. They were totally soft, but each one must have been five inches long. I forced myself to look at their faces. The rest of them started getting out of the pool to meet me, too.
       "Hi, I'm Kyle Goodson, and I'm Justin Davis," they each said in turn. I shook hands with them.
       "Dan Rutland," I said.
       "Dan, we've been waiting to meet you, man," Kyle said.
       They seemed totally at ease in their nudity. I, on the other hand, felt my dick put on weight.
       Tim was next to introduce himself, and I noticed he was uncircumcised. Kevin and Rick were right behind him, and Kevin was uncut, as well. The other guys were behind them: Sean, whose penis was definitely distended, Tyler, Chuck, and, finally, Tony Miller.
       "I know you," Tony said, grinning and laughing. "Did you ever think you'd see me naked?"
       "Mr. Miller, I don't know what to say," I said.
       "Well, first of all, lose the 'Mr. Miller' shit. I'm your brother here. I'm just plain 'Tony,'" he said.
       "I don't know if I can say that," I said.
       "Yes, you can. Say it. To-ny. And you can call me that at work, too. Most people do," he said.
       "The rest of them at work ain't seen this thing, though. Or have they?" Justin said, pulling on Tony's dick.
       "Leave that alone. That ain't yours," Tony said.
       "I don't want it. What is it, anyway? It looks sort of like a dick, only smaller," Justin said.
       It really was only about half the size of Justin's, but I knew some grew more than others.
       "You're looking for an ass-kicking, Justin," Tony said.
       "You might be able to do an ass kicking. I don't know about an ass fucking, though," Justin said.
       "He got you last big time on that one, Bubba," Kyle said.
       "I know," Tony said. "Justin, I'm going to kill you."
       "You might could with a gun, but not with the gun swinging between your legs," Justin said.
       They all laughed and got back to the volleyball game they had been playing.
       "These people are incredible," I said to Ken once they were back in the pool.
       "I know. Aren't they? The joking and the teasing never stop," Ken said. "It's the way they express affection for one another," Ken said.
       "Yeah, I can see that. Those two older boys. Kyle and Justin. Are they a couple?" I asked.
       "No. It's Kyle and Tim, and Justin and Brian. Brian is the one who trains the dogs. Kyle has actually published a book. I have a copy of it, and I'll show it to you. It's a book of photographs," he said.
       "That's unbelievable," I said.
       "I know. Wait till you see the book. It's mostly pictures of the boys in this house. And some of their friends, too. Kyle is represented by a gallery in New York City, and at least one of his pictures is in a museum. He's eighteen years old," Ken said.
       "Incredible," I said.
       "There's more talent on this half acre of land right now than there is on any hundred-acre plot in Northwest Florida. Maybe a thousand acres," Ken said. "You'll see."
       * * *
       I eventually worked up enough nerve to get naked and get in the pool, and Ken did, too. It wasn't new to him, though, like it was to me, so he had a much easier time doing it. I have to admit, it was more like taking a bath than anything else. There wasn't any sexual content to it at all, and I felt very much at ease. Getting from the bench where we left our clothes to the pool was the hardest part, but none of them even noticed us doing it. After a while, it seemed perfectly normal and natural to be naked with those guys in that pool.
       It appeared to me that Kyle and Tim, and Justin and Brian were in charge of dinner. They got out of the pool and put on Speedos to cook and get dinner ready for us. Rick made drinks for anybody who wanted one. The kids all drank cokes, but the older guys had liquor drinks. I had a coke. I think it was actually a Pepsi and not a real Coke, but we in the South call every soft drink a coke.
       "Well, what do you think?" Kevin asked me.
       It was Kevin and Rick, Tony and Chuck, Jeff and Tyler, and Ken and I at a table. We had a fairly large platter of snacks in front of us, and Kevin, Ken, and I were smoking. The others weren't.
       "I think this whole place is incredible," I said. "Tony, you really do have a full life, apart from Novell and Microsoft, don't you? And AS400."
       "I have a very full life, Dan. And now you're going to be a part of it," Tony said.
       "Are you boss types going to want your subordinates hanging around?" I asked.
       They laughed.
       "Of course, Dan. You and Ken might be the subordinates of some of us at work, but here you're our brothers, man," Kevin said. "You need to explain that to him, Ken."
       "I did," Ken said. "Kevin, there's a little bit of an adjustment to go through, you know? I've done it already, but Dan needs a couple of days."
       "Did you even know who Rick and I were?" Kevin asked.
       "No," I said.
       "Well, see. We're just friends and brothers. How can we be your bosses if you didn't even know we existed?" Rick asked.
       "True," I said. "Tony's the one I really think of as my boss."
       "No, I'm not," Tony said. "I'm Lee's boss, and Lee is your boss. How often do you talk to me?"
       "Never. This is really the first conversation I've ever had with you," I said.
       "That's not going to change at work. We're going to be brothers and friends in our personal lives, but we're not going to interact at work," Tony said. "I mean, we might occasionally hug or kiss each other in the parking lot, but nobody will notice that."
       We all laughed.
       "Yeah, right," I said.
       "Seriously, Dan. Nothing's going to change at work, man. Has it changed for Ken?" Tony asked.
       "No. Not that I can tell," I said.
       "The two of you might get the odd raise, the odd bonus, but you can't talk about that, anyway. That's cause for firing, and you know it," Kevin said.
       "Okay, the food is ready," Kyle said as he came up to our table. "It's grilled lobsters and grilled steaks. I caught the lobsters, and Rick caught the bull that the steaks came from by sticking his ass up in the air. Luckily, it was a gay bull. There is plenty of food, so please eat all you want. We always say grace before we eat at something like this, and I'm going to ask Mister Rick Mashburn to pray for us tonight."
       "You little shithead," Rick said.
       "Say the prayer so we can eat," Kyle said.
       "All right. Bow your heads, please. Heavenly Father, you have graced us tonight with a new brother, Dan Rutland. And you have graced Dan and Ken with a new relationship. We thank you for Dan, and we thank you for their friendship. We thank you for this family and for these, your gifts, which we are about to receive from your bounty, through Christ, our Lord."
       "Amen," they all shouted.
       "That was pretty damn good. For you," Justin said.
       Rick and Kevin laughed.
       "Yeah? You're going to have to say it, sooner or later," Rick said.
       "I hope it's later," Justin said.
       Everybody had either put on shorts or a bathing suit, or had a towel wrapped around themselves, for dinner. They formed a buffet line, and they let me go first because I was the newest member of the group. I took a steak, a lobster, a baked potato, some broccoli casserole, and a little salad.
       Ken was right behind me in line, and he sat next to me at a round table. We waited for others to join us, and the same group that had been at that table before came back to it.
       "This looks good, doesn't it?" Ken said.
       "Yeah, and it smells wonderful," I said. "Did those boys cook all of this?"
       "Yeah. They might have bought the casserole already prepared, but they're certainly capable of making it themselves. The food around here is pretty amazing, although the only real meal they eat together is breakfast. At night, it's more or less a snack," Ken said.
       When everybody was back at the table, we started eating. The lobster was especially good. I had never had grilled lobster before, but I knew I would in the future.
       "Ken told me you guys are planning a commitment ceremony," I said.
       "Yeah. We're excited about that," Tony said. "Kevin and Rick are sort of our inspirations in that."
       "You guys had a ceremony?" I asked.
       "Yeah. It was pretty private, though, not like the one these guys are planning. It was just my parents and my brother and sister-in-law. And the priest, of course," Kevin said.
       "A priest?" I asked, somewhat surprised.
       "Yeah. An old family friend," Kevin said. "He did a nice job with it."
       "Is yours going to be in a church?" I asked.
       "No. A priest will perform the ceremony, but even he's a little skittish about doing it in the church building," Jeff said. "It's going to be at a hotel, followed by a reception."
       "Ours wasn't in a church, either," Rick said. "It was at Kevin's parents' house."
       "I don't see that it matters where you do it," Ken said.
       "Exactly," Tyler said. "And really, having a priest is a nice touch, but I don't really think that's necessary, either."
       "I like that, though, Babe," Jeff said.
       "I do, too," Tyler said.
       That was the way the meal progressed. We talked about work a little bit, since everybody there was connected to the company in some way, but our jobs were so different that we really didn't have much common ground for conversation. We ended up talking about the new airport that was being debated in the county.
       "Gene Goodson's in favor of it," Kevin said. "A lot of people aren't, though, because they don't want this place to grow any more. I think that's kind of short sighted."
       "I don't," Rick said. "We have about 150,000 permanent residents here now, and the streets can barely handle the traffic as it is."
       I didn't really have an opinion on the topic, but the conversation underscored an important point to me. Here were these gay men, all of whom had important, responsible jobs in the community, talking about the kind of thing any group of straight friends would discuss. They were just normal, ordinary guys, interested in normal, ordinary things. That was pretty amazing to me.
       I could tell by the tone of voice, the body language, or whatever, that those guys deeply cared about one another. Love was almost palpable in that house among all fourteen of them, or whatever the hell the number was. I was already lucky to have Ken, but now I had them, too.

Chapter 15

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I was officially a full-time college student, but it didn't take full time. It seemed like I had a lot more time on my hands than I thought I would. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I didn't have class until eleven o'clock. I know a lot of guys would just sleep in, but I was too hyper for that. I got up on those days when Tim did, which gave me a lot of time to study or read or whatever. I thought about working out then, but I don't really like to work out by myself. Besides, Justin and I had a routine established again, and we needed each other to stay motivated.
       One thing I hadn't done yet, but wanted to, was find out what was inside the college library. I mean I knew it had books and stuff like that, but I hadn't been in it yet to check it out. So, this one Tuesday morning right after we got back from Rob's christening, I got to campus around eight o'clock and went to the library. There was almost nobody in there, but I poked around a little bit. There were some study rooms with sofas and upholstered chairs that looked pretty comfortable. There were a couple of rooms that had quite a few computers in them for students, or anybody, really, to use.
       After I was in there for a few minutes, I had to go to the bathroom. I do that first thing in the morning, but some days I have to go twice, especially if I don't take my time the first time. So, I went to the men's room and got in the first stall. There were only three. I hiked my shorts down and took a seat, minding my own business. I started bouncing my right foot, like I often do. It gets on people's nerves, so I try not to do it too much, but it's a habit I have that I can't seem to break.
       All of a sudden, this hand comes from under the next stall and grabs my calf. It scared the shit out of me, which wasn't really a problem, considering where I was. I figured I was getting on the guy's nerves.
       "Sorry," I said. "I'll stop."
       He didn't say anything back. Instead, he started rubbing my leg. I jerked it away from him.
       "What the hell's going on, man?" I said.
       I was embarrassed and pissed off, but I tried not to sound too mad in case the guy turned out to be a giant and wanted to whip my ass for me. I mean, there wasn't anybody around to help me.
       He still didn't say anything. He picked up a piece of a paper towel that was on the floor and stuck it out for me under the stall. I took it and saw that it had writing on it. It said, "Tap your foot for a blowjob."
       Shit! I thought. This guy is trying to pick me up, and I played right into his hand without realizing it. I put the paper back on the floor.
       "I'm not interested," I said. Then, trying to be funny, I said, "Besides, I already had one this morning." Which was true.
       "I'll bet she wasn't as good as I am," he said.
       "It was a 'he,' not a 'she,'" I said.
       I don't know what made me say that, but I figured after the fact that it wasn't really a good idea. In fact, talking to the guy probably wasn't a good idea.
       "I'll give you something to compare it to, then," he said.
       "Look. I'm not interested, okay? I'm here to take a shit and get out of here," I said. "Besides, how do I know you're not a cop, trying to entrap people?"
       "I'm not a cop, and I'd have to tell you if I was, since you asked me," he said.
       I finished my business, wiped up, and got the hell out of there.
       That was the first time anybody had ever come on to me like that, and it kind of spooked me a little bit. Oh, sure, people like Stephen at work were always talking about wanting to have sex with me and shit, but they were people I knew. I also knew they were just joking around. Those kinds of things with them would always end up with us laughing. That guy wasn't laughing, though, and he was persistent. Thank God there wasn't anybody else in there. I would have been embarrassed to death to come out to see a line of guys at the urinals.
       I thought about what Justin and I had seen Sean do when we were in New Orleans. At the time I thought it was pretty cheap of Sean to do, but he was a young kid, and I knew he wasn't getting any, otherwise. At least he and the other boy had made eye contact while the band was playing on that club’s patio, and they waved to each other when the other boy left. Maybe my sex drive wasn't as strong as other guys', but I wouldn't have done that even if I wasn't in love with Tim Murphy. I just wouldn't.
       I thought about what had happened in that restroom off and on all day. I felt like I wanted to talk about it with Kevin and Rick, and I brought it up that night while we were having our snack. I told them what had gone down.
       "It sounds like you handled it the right way," Kevin said.
       "Yeah, but why would somebody do something like that?" I asked.
       I looked at Sean, and he had a painful look on his face. I winked at him to let him know I wasn't going to say anything about what Justin and I had seen in New Orleans. He smiled a little bit and relaxed.
       "He wanted to give somebody a blowjob. Haven't you ever wanted to give somebody a blowjob?" Justin asked.
       I knew he was teasing me, but I wasn't in the mood to be teased about that.
       "Of course, but as part of making love. I've never felt like I wanted to give a blowjob to some total stranger whose face I hadn't even seen," I said.
       "Don't get mad, Kyle. I was teasing you, Bubba," Justin said.
       "I know. I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at that guy, though," I said. "That was scary and humiliating."
       "I'm sorry it happened to you, Bubba," Kevin said, "and it's definitely something we need to talk about. I've come across a few things on the Internet about it. There are restrooms where guys hook up for sex all over the place. They're called Tearooms."
       "I know about those," Justin said, sort of a sad tone in his voice.
       "Did he make you do those, Jus?" Rick said, all kind and tender like.
       "Yeah," Jus said, barely above a whisper. "I fucking hated it, too."
       Denny, Murray, and Sean perked up. They didn't know about Justin's past.
       "Tearooms are somewhat controversial in the gay community," Kevin said. "Some people believe they are central to gay culture all over the world. Not just Tearooms, but meetings in parks or other public places. Usually it's just for oral sex or masturbation. Some 'Queer Theory' experts claim that anonymous public sex is essential for us to assert our right to be gay. They claim that sex in bath houses and sex clubs and truck stops and Interstate rest areas reminds the straight community that we are here and won't go away."
       He definitely had our attention.
       "They call people like us 'assimilationists,' meaning we just want to fit right into the straight population and lose the 'differentness' of being gay. They would definitely not like the fact that we live in what is basically a straight neighborhood and that there isn't some kind of gay symbol on our house or cars. As I understand it, they believe homosexuality is a gift to the human family because it reminds people of diversity and the uniqueness of individuals. We're kind of like a witness to the fact that everybody doesn't conform to the mass stereotypes of straight society," Kevin said.
       "I think we're just about as out as we can be, Kevin, short of flying one of those rainbow flags in the front yard," I said.
       "We are out, but we're accepted as ordinary guys, even though we're gay," Kevin said. "Now and then some prick gets pushy, but that's the exception, not the rule. Kyle, you were president of your school last year, and you've got a big job in your fraternity this year. Tim's president of the Science Club. You guys are leaders, and everybody knows you're gay. Brian, you could damn sure be a leader, too, if you wanted to be, but I know you don't want to be. And we respect that, Bri. But, see, we're assimilated."
       "I'm sorry, Kevin, but I don't get the connection between us being leaders and fitting in, and some guy wanting to suck me off in the men's room while I'm taking a shit," I said.
       "It probably smelled real sexy to him," Justin said.
       That made everybody laugh.
       "Well, what I said was just the theory that some guys believe. What Justin said before might have been the case. He might have just wanted to get off by giving some guy, probably a straight guy, a blowjob," Kevin said.
       "I don't get how bathroom sex would make gays more visible and less assimilated," Tim said.
       "Look at it this way, Tim. What if Kyle had been a straight guy on that toilet? Even if he hadn't accepted the blowjob, do you think he could have just walked out of there without thinking about what it might have been like? Every guy wants to experience oral sex. Many straight guys do, but many don't, too. And if he was straight and had gone through with it, he would have had a whole different attitude about man-to-man sex, don't you think?" Kevin said.
       "Yeah, I guess so, when you put it that way," Tim said.
       "And we don't know that the guy was gay. He might have been questioning or curious, testing out his own sexuality," Kevin said.
       "There's a lot more to this than I thought. That's why I wanted to talk about it," I said. "I have to admit. It fucked up my day."
       "I'm sure it did, Bubba," Kevin said. "Are you getting all right about it?"
       "Yeah, now I am," I said.
       "Was it an old guy or a young guy?" Justin asked.
       "I didn't see his face, but his voice sounded young, like college age or something," I said.
       "I've read that some younger guys go through a 'slut' stage. They want all the sex they can get, shortly after they accept themselves as gay, and they don't care if the other guy is somebody they care about or even know. In some places they have these holes in the partitions between toilet stalls. Those are called Glory Holes, and guys stick their dicks through them for a guy in the next stall to suck or jerk off. Sometimes guys put their asses up to them to get fucked," Rick said.
       "I've seen one of those Glory Holes," I said.
       "I've seen them, too," Justin said.
       "Was there one in that stall this morning?" Rick asked.
       "No. The thing was metal," I said. "The one I saw was in New Orleans, only I didn't know that's what it was."
       "Well, that's probably what it was," Rick said.
       "Rick and I don't lecture much about sex, but this is a good time to talk about this. One of you might one day find yourself in the same situation Kyle found himself in today. There are at least three good reasons why doing Tearoom sex is very dangerous. First, it can get you arrested, and you'll be a sex offender for the rest of your life. You'll have to register with the police wherever you go, and in Florida your name, address, and picture will be put on a Web site. You don't want that," Kevin said.
       "Damn, that's pretty harsh for a blowjob," Justin said.
       "It might be, but it's the law. Second, the guy in the next stall might be a gay basher looking for somebody to beat up. I read about one situation where a guy stuck his dick through a Glory Hole for a blowjob, and the other guy grabbed his dick, pulled out a lighter, and burned his dick severely. Not to mention the possibility of getting beaten up afterward."
       "That hurts just to think about it," Brian said.
       "Third, you have no idea of the health of the guy on the other side of that partition. He might have AIDS or some other sexually transmitted disease that he'll expose you to. That's an incredible risk for just an orgasm, guys," Kevin said.
       Everybody was very quiet. I looked at Sean, and I could tell he was soaking it all in. That was the first time since he had been there that we had had a talk about being gay or about sex, and I knew it was having an effect on him.
       "I guess the moral of this story is, 'shit at home,'" I said.
       They laughed.
       "Have you got any of that Tick Supreme made up?" Justin asked.
       "Yeah. There's a big jar of it. Go get it. I'm still hungry, too," I said.
       "This was a good talk," Sean said. "I've got homework, though. Thanks, guys."
       "Night, Sean. We love you, Bubba," Kevin said.
       The rest of us told him good night, and Denny and Murray, too. I noticed those two paid good attention during that talk, even though they didn't say anything. Sean was the one who needed it the most, though.
       "Were you scared to death, Babe?" Tim asked me.
       "I wasn't exactly scared. I mean, I was, but it was just so strange. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before," I said. "I didn't know whether to shit or wind my watch."
       "You figured out what to do, though, right? You did shit, didn't you?" Justin asked.
       We laughed.
       "Jus, you've been pretty funny tonight, and we appreciate that. But you also said Buel made you do that. Do you need to talk about that, Bubba?" Kevin asked.
       "Naw. I'm okay about that," he said. "I've got my family, now."
       Damn! I wanted so bad for him to have the money I was going to give him so he could say, "Fuck it all! I'm rich, and I don't give a shit!" I loved that boy like I had loved my own brother, and I hated it that I couldn't make him independent yet. Or even tell him about it. Damn.

(Sean's Perspective)
       I listened to Kyle's story about getting propositioned in the restroom at college, and I wondered if that was true. I mean, I wondered if that had really happened the way he said it did or if he was really talking in a disguised way about what I had done in New Orleans. I had thought a lot since that night about what had happened. Sometimes it made me hard, and I jerked off thinking about it. Sometimes it made me feel like a fool for doing it.
       I noticed that boy in that club place as soon as we sat down. He was gorgeous, and his hair was really nice. So were his clothes. It was hard to tell how old he was, but he was drinking a beer. In Virginia you have to be twenty-one to drink, and I figured it was the same in Louisiana. Kyle and Justin had liquor drinks, but Craig had ordered them. Anyway, he was twenty or twenty-one. Somewhere in that age range.
       I noticed him looking at me, and I kept looking at him, too. He smiled a little at me, and I smiled back. I started getting hard, but not all the way. We kept that up for a while, and he kept darting his eye over to the building where the restroom was and then staring back at me. It was like he was trying to communicate that he wanted me to meet him in the restroom. One time it looked like he started to get up, and he cocked his head in the direction of the restroom when he did that.
       I excused myself from the table, and I saw him out of the corner of my eye get up at the same time I did. I got to the restroom just before he did. It smelled sort of bad, and there wasn't much light in there. There was another guy in there using the urinal, but he finished and left before I could even take out my dick to pee. I took it out, and I was pretty stiff. The other guy took his out, too, and he was hard as well. He reached over and touched mine. That made me let out a little sigh.
       He took me by the hand and led me back to a stall. Our dicks were still out, and they rubbed together when he pulled me in to kiss me. We kissed for a little while. He unbuttoned a couple of buttons on my shirt and played with my nipples. That drove me wild, and I almost came from him doing that and from the friction on my dick from his dick.
       He sat down on the toilet without dropping his pants. He pulled me in front of him and took my dick into his mouth. He sucked it and ran his tongue around the head. I had never felt anything that good in my life.
       I heard two people come into the restroom, and I heard some mumbling. I couldn't understand what they said, and I didn't even recognize the voices. One of the guys farted. The guy was still working on my dick. He'd get me ready to shoot, and then he'd pull off me for a few seconds, and I'd calm down a little. He did that several times.
       Right before I came, I thought I heard somebody whisper my name, but if someone did, he didn't say anything when I asked "what?" I shot off, and the guy did, too, all over the floor. Some of his even got on my leg. We cleaned ourselves up and got out of there. We never said a word to each other.
       Walking to the coffee shop after we left the club, Kyle and Justin asked me if I had had a good time. I made some lame-ass comment about enjoying the music. Then I realized they knew what I had done. They told me they figured something was up between me and that guy, and they wanted to be there to help me out if I needed it. They said they would never tell, and they hadn't.
       After that talk in the den about what had happened to Kyle that day, I couldn't stop thinking about what I had done. It wasn't quite the same thing, but it was pretty close.
       I had a little homework to do after the talk, but not much. I did my math homework that I had started, and almost finished, in class, and then I tried to read a book I had to read for English. I couldn't keep my mind on it, though. I decided I wanted to talk to Kyle and Justin.
       I went down to Kyle and Tim's room, and tapped on the door.
       "Come in," Tim said.
       I opened the door, and he was in there by himself.
       "Where's Kyle?" I asked.
       "I think he and Jus are in the clubhouse shooting pool or something," Tim said.
       "Okay. Thanks," I said.
       I went downstairs and peeked into the den. Kevin and Rick were in there watching TV, but it looked like Rick was asleep in Kevin's arms. I didn't go in there or speak to them. I went outside through the kitchen and walked over to the clubhouse. Kyle and Justin were in there, and they were shooting pool.
       "Hi," I said when I walked in.
       "Hey, Bubba. You want to shoot pool with us?" Justin asked.
       "No, but can I talk to you guys for a few minutes?" I asked.
       "Sure," they both said.
       We sat down.
       "What's on your mind?" Kyle asked.
       "Did that story you told about this morning really happen to you?" I asked Kyle.
       "Yeah. What makes you think it didn't?" he asked.
       "I thought it might be your way of bringing up what happened last Friday night to me in New Orleans," I said.
       "No, we're never going to say anything to anybody about that," Kyle said. "We told you that."
       "I know, and thanks. Do Tim and Brian know about it?" I asked.
       "Tim doesn't," Kyle said.
       "Brian, either. We said we wouldn't tell," Justin said.
       "I know, but they're your partners and all," I said.
       "We pretty much tell them everything, unless we say we're not going to," Kyle said. "You just have to trust us on that."
       "I know. I do," I said. "Do you think I should tell Kevin and Rick about what happened?"
       "I don't. It ain't none of their business," Justin said.
       "Why would you want to tell 'em?" Kyle asked. "Are you ashamed of what happened?"
       "No, not ashamed, exactly. I don't know how I feel," I said.
       "How long have you been out?" Kyle asked.
       "Just since June," I said. "Not very long."
       "Did you have a boyfriend back home?" he asked.
       "I dated a guy for about a month. Then my parents broke it off right after the Fourth of July," I said.
       "I would never ask you this in front of Kevin and Rick, or other grown-ups, but did you and your boyfriend have sex?" Kyle asked.
       "See, that's another thing. I don't know if what we did was really having sex or not. We kissed and cuddled and made out, and twice he touched my penis through my shorts. That made me shoot both times," I said.
       "We consider that having sex," Kyle said. "You're fifteen, right?"
       "Right," I said.
       "Sex is brand new to you, and you're just exploring what the possibilities are. I don't think that what you did was all that bad. It was dangerous for the reasons Kevin said in there tonight, but you ain't going to hell for it or anything like that," Kyle said. "I guess maybe the danger might even make it more fun."
       "You could have gotten caught," Justin said.
       "We did get caught," I said.
       "I meant by the law. Kyle and I were there for the sole purpose of protecting you, if you needed it," Justin said. "You got to believe that, now."
       "I do believe that, and I appreciate that you cared enough about me to do it," I said.
       "I will say this. Be very careful if you do that again," Kyle said. "If you got arrested or got beat up, Kevin and Rick would have the monster fit of all times. I mean that."
       "I won't be doing that again. I'm just so horny, though," I said.
       "We sure understand that, Bubba," Kyle said. "What about that Milligan guy? Have you started talking to him?"
       "No, but I want to. I talk to him in class, and he is so nice," I said.
       "Invite him over to swim or hang out or something," Kyle said.
       "Do you think that would be all right?" I asked.
       "Of course. This is your home. If you can't have friends in your own home, where can you have 'em?" Kyle said. "You know we're going to be nice to him. Ask him out on a date. Does he know you're gay?"
       "I haven't said anything about that to him," I said. "There are a couple of other guys that I'm pretty sure are gay, too, that I've met."
       "You need to get you a social life," Justin said. "I know it's hard when you can't drive, but we'll take you out. Hell, we'll double date with you. Triple date. Quadruple date. We do that all the time with our friends, gay and straight."
       "Why don't you invite somebody to go out to a movie Friday night?" Kyle asked.
       "Friday night's a football game," I said.
       "Perfect. Invite your friend to go to the game with you. We'll pick him up if he can't drive," Kyle said. "We'll go out and get something to eat after the game. That's a pretty nice date."
       "Should I buy his ticket?" I asked.
       "Naw. I'd make it strictly dutch treat, don't you think, Bubba?" Kyle asked Justin.
       "Yeah. That's the best. See if you like him before you start spending money on him," he said.
       "Should I kiss him goodnight?" I asked.
       "Well, I kissed Tim on our first date, but I knew him pretty good by then," Kyle said. "I'd play that one by ear. Who knows? He might kiss you before you get a chance to kiss him."
       "You can also invite him over here, you know. Like we were talking about before. After school, even," Jus said. "Ask him to swim or shoot pool or something. Does he like to do 'guy' things like that?"
       "There's more than one I'm interested in. David Milligan is one, but there's also Matt Hernandez and Scott Michaels. Scott's the hottest one of the three, and I'm pretty sure he's gay," I said.
       "Is he in Drama Club?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "I know him, too. Yeah, you're right. I'm pretty sure he's gay, too. I don't think he has a single guy friend, but the girls are all over him. At least they were last year when he was a freshman," Kyle said.
       "I'm going to start staying at school for lunch, at least most days. I love having lunch with the family, and all, but that's about the only time I have to talk to people," I said.
       "You might want to get into Drama Club or the Debate Team. For some reason, those two clubs seem to appeal to gay guys. Those two, and band and chorus. I should know about Drama Club," Kyle said.
       "Were you in that?" I asked.
       "Hell, this boy played the lead in the musical last year. It was Grease, and he was Danny Zuko," Justin said. "Brian and I went to every show. So did Tim, of course."
       "Cool," I said. "I've never been in a play."
       "It's probably too late to be in the first play of the year. They do four a year, two each semester, and the last one is always a musical. They usually do one by Shakespeare, too," Kyle said. "That's when you get to see the boys in tights so you can check out their equipment."
       I chuckled.
       "Hopefully, if everything works out for me, I'm going to have to ask you guys for advice about sex pretty soon," I said.
       "Any time, Bubba," Justin said.
       * * *
       Scott Michaels was in the class I had right before lunch, and I made it a point of walking to the cafeteria with him the next day. We both had our backpacks and would have to go to our lockers after we ate. I was talking to Scott as we went through the line, so it was natural for me to take a seat at his table when he sat down. We weren't there long when two girls joined us. I didn't know either one of them, but Scott introduced me.
       "We're his two hags," one girl, Colleen, said.
       Scott blushed when she said that, and I couldn't figure out why.
       We made small talk about classes and the Drama Club and whatnot. They told me what I had to do to join Drama Club, and I was glad it didn't involve an audition or anything.
       "Do you guys like to shoot pool?" I asked.
       I really didn't want to invite the girls over, but it would have been rude not to.
       "God, no," Colleen said. "I'm a total klutz with a pool stick." Jenny, the other girl, agreed with Colleen.
       "What about you, Scott?" I asked.
       "He's a cutie, Scott," Colleen said. "I'd say 'yes,' if I were you."
       Scott blushed so hard that time he looked sunburned.
       "Shut up, Colleen," Scott said. "He's going to think I'm gay or something."
       "It wouldn't matter to me one bit if you were gay," I said. It would matter a hell of a lot if you turn out not to be, though, I thought.
       "See," Colleen said. "Baby, you're out to half the people on campus. People in this school don't care, Scottie."
       "I know," Scott said. He seemed uncomfortable. "Sean, I'm gay."
       "Me, too," I said.
       Scott's eyes got as big around as saucers. It was pretty clear he didn't know what to say.
       We had finished eating by then, and I wanted a cigarette pretty badly. One of the advantages of going off campus for lunch, apart from the much better food, was that you could smoke.
       "I wish you could smoke around here," I said.
       "Oh, but you can, my dear," Jenny said. "Come with us. We'll show you where."
       "It's not against the rules to smoke on campus?" I asked.
       "It's not just against the rules. It's against the fucking state law. But that doesn't stop us, or a bunch of other people, either," Jenny said.
       They led me outside and clear to the back of the school property where the stadium was. There were about twenty other people out there, and every one of them was smoking. Both girls and Scott lit up, and I did, too.
       "I didn't know about this. I've been going off campus for lunch, and I always smoke on the way back to school," I said.
       "Well, now you know," Colleen said. "Every now and then there's a raid, but it doesn't happen very often. We just drop them and haul ass. One of the deans rides out here on his little golf cart, and we can see him coming for a long way. To tell you the truth, I think he comes back here to smoke, too."
       "Interesting," I said.
       "I was in his office one time to appeal an unexcused absence. He opened his desk drawer to get a pen or something, and he must have had fifty packs of cigarettes he had confiscated from kids," Scott said. "I'm sure he never has to buy his own."
       "Another rule that is flagrantly violated is the one about no cell phones on campus. Actually, you can have a cell phone to use outside of school hours, but it has to be turned off during the school day. Nobody does it, though. We just set them to vibrate instead of to ring," Jenny said.
       "She loves it when her phone vibrates," Colleen said.
       We laughed; even Jenny.
       "Like you don't, bitch," Jenny said.
       Walking back to the building, I asked Scott if he wanted to come over to hang out that afternoon. He said he did. He whipped out his cell phone, dialed a number, and left a message for his parents, I guess, that he had something to do that day after school, so he wouldn't ride the bus home.
       "You ride the bus home?" I asked.
       "God, yes. The cheese wagon. I hate it, too," he said. "How do you get home?"
       "I ride with my brother," I said.
       "Who's your brother?" Colleen asked.
       "Well, he's not my real brother. He's just my honorary brother. Tim Murphy. He's a senior," I said.
       "Oh, I know Tim. He's Kyle Goodson's boyfriend, isn't he? What a waste it is that those two are gay," Colleen said.
       "Not necessarily," Scott said, and we all laughed.
       That was about the best fifty-minute lunch period I had ever had. I had made three new friends, I had come out to them, and I had found out where I could smoke on campus. That was quite a lot for one day.
       * * *
       I told Scott where to meet me at the end of the day. We only had one more class before it was time to go home, and he and I didn't have that class together.
       "Tim, can we squeeze one more person in?" I asked.
       "Sure. It's just you and me today, anyway. Denny and Murray have debate practice this afternoon, or a meeting or something. They're going to call me when they're finished," Tim said.
       "Tim, this is Scott Michaels. Scott, this is Tim Murphy," I said.
       They shook hands, and Scott checked Tim out. If Tim checked Scott out, he wasn't obvious about it.
       "We're going to hang out at home, maybe shoot some pool," I said. "You want to hang with us?"
       "Thanks," Tim said, "but I'm going to get started on my homework. I've got a ton of it."
       I could tell Scott was impressed with the house when we got out of Tim's car and went inside. The doggies greeted us with a lot of energy, as they always did, and Scott seemed to like them.
       "You want a snack or something?" I asked Scott.
       "Yeah. What are you having?"
       "I don't know. Let's see what we've got."
       There was part of a chocolate cake on the counter in one of those glass cake plates with a domed cover.
       "How about some of this and some milk?" I asked.
       "That would be great," he said.
       We got nice hunks of cake and glasses of ice cold milk, and we sat at the breakfast room table to have our snacks.
       "I'm a little bit confused about this place," he said.
       I chuckled.
       "It's basically an all-gay residence. There are ten of us who live here. Kevin Foley and Rick Mashburn are a married gay couple, and they take in gay foster kids. I'm one, and there are three more. Tim, the guy that brought us home, isn't a foster kid, but he once was, while his dad was at war, or something like that. His boyfriend, Kyle Goodson, lives here, too, but both Tim and Kyle have parents, who also live in town. Well, Kyle's parents live in Destin, now, but Kyle's eighteen. He actually has his own condo that is his official residence, but he really lives here," I said. "There's another guy, Ken, who's just here temporarily. Ken's a grown-up, though."
       "An all-gay household? Wow!" Scott said. "Are you from here?"
       I explained how I got there, and I think that blew his mind a little bit.
       "Let's go put our stuff up in my room. They don't like us leaving our things lying around," I said.
       "This is a big room, and this is a hell of an entertainment center," he said. "It's cool. I wish I could be in foster care here."
       I chuckled. God, the boy was cute!
       "I was totally surprised when I got here and saw all this stuff. The rooms on the second floor each have private bathrooms. I have to share the one up here with Ken, the temporary guy I was telling you about," I said. "I'm not complaining, though."
       "I wouldn't either," he said.
       "What's your family like?" I asked.
       "It's really just me and my mom. I have an older sister, but she's married and lives in Nashville. Her husband is from there. They have a little boy, and she's going to have another baby boy in a few months," he said.
       "Oh, so you're an uncle," I said.
       "Yep. I love my nephew, too. He's incredibly cute," he said.
       "Do you ever see your dad?" I asked.
       "No. My parents aren't divorced. My dad is dead," he said.
       "Yikes! I'm sorry, man," I said.
       "Thanks, but he was killed in an industrial accident about ten years ago. He was the manager of a factory that manufactured pipe for oil wells, and somehow a load of very heavy steel pipe crashed down on him. I barely remember him," he said.
       "Does your mom work?" I asked.
       "Yeah. She's a nurse practitioner with a group of doctors," he said.
       Scott and I never made it out to the clubhouse to shoot pool that afternoon. I learned that he's out to his mom, sister, brother-in-law, and all the rest of his close relatives. His mom doesn’t officially know that he smokes, and she takes a very dim view of smoking. Sounds like my parents. He is fifteen, just like I am, and he figured out that he is gay when he was twelve. He has never had a boyfriend, and he has never had sex.
       "Would you like to have sex?" I asked.
       "Now?"
       I burst out laughing, and he laughed, too.
       "No, not now. I mean, just in general. Someday," I said.
       "Well, sure. I mean, I guess I would. Someday. With the right guy," he said.
       He asked me if I had had sex, and I lied and told him I hadn't.
       "Do the other guys here have sex, do you think?" he asked.
       "Kevin and Rick, Kyle and Tim, and Justin and Brian do. They're couples who have been together forever. Denny has a boyfriend of sorts, when they're not fighting, but I don't know what they do. I'm pretty sure Murray has never had sex. Ken is dating someone, but I don't know if they have sex. So, I guess the answer is, yes and no. Some do, and some don't."
       Scott's cell phone rang, and he answered it.
       "Oh, hi, Mom," he said.
       Pause.
       "No, I didn't realize it was that late," he said.
       I checked my watch, and it was 6:15. Damn, it seemed like we had just gotten home.
       "I'll just walk home," he said.
       Pause.
       "I've got a new friend," he said, looking at me and smiling.
       Pause.
       "No, he's a guy."
       Pause.
       "No, just a friend, Mom. Jeeze!"
       Pause.
       "Okay. I love you, too. I'll see you in a little bit. Bye."
       "I didn't realize it was as late as it is," I said.
       "I didn't either," he said.
       "I've had a great time this afternoon. Do you want to come over again tomorrow?"
       "Me, too. Yeah, I do want to come over," he said.
       "Cool," I said.
       He got this really thoughtful look on his face.
       "Sean, I don't have very many guy friends. Even though I'm gay, I feel awkward around guys. I never know what to say. I'm sort of intimidated by guys. But you're not like that," he said.
       "Same here. I feel like I've known you a long time, Scott," I said.
       "Me, too. Thanks for . . . "
       "Thank you, too," I said.
       We went down to the first floor, and everybody was in the den eating sandwiches and bowls of soup. I took him in there.
       "Hey, Bubba," Justin said right away. "Y'all get some of this food. This soup is out of this world."
       "Everybody, this is Scott Michaels," I said.
       "How you doing, Scott? Do you remember me? I'm Kyle Goodson."
       "Hi, Kyle. Of course I remember you. I'm surprised you remember me," Scott said.
       "Why would you be surprised about that?" Kyle asked.
       "Well, I was a freshman, and you were a senior. And you were a big . . . star, and everything," Scott said.
       "Shit," Kyle said, and he chuckled.
       I introduced everybody else.
       "Get you some sandwiches and a bowl of soup. This soup is outstanding. It's oyster-artichoke, and I got it from Publix," Kyle said.
       "Are you hungry?" I asked Scott.
       "Yeah," he said, so we got some food.
       After we ate, Scott said he had to go.
       "I didn't notice your car out there," Kyle said. "What are you driving?"
       "I'm not," Scott said. "I'm walking home."
       "No way, man. Come on, I'll take you," Kyle said. "I did the food. The rest of y'all do the clean up."
       "Aye, aye, Capt'n," Justin said.
       "I'm checking when I get back. If it ain't done right, you're going to be swabbing the deck with your pubic hair," Kyle said.
       Scott looked at me like he was a little shocked at what Kyle had said, but I just shrugged.
       "Kyle, get out of here," Justin said.
       "He's a cutie," Kyle said on the way back from dropping Scott off, "and he's family, too, ain't he?"
       "Family?"
       "He's gay, ain't he? That's what 'family' means," he said.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "I think he was out to everybody in the Drama Club by the end of last year, and I suspect he's pretty much out to everybody at school by now," he said.
       "That's a very tolerant school, isn't it?" I said.
       "Yeah, I'd say it is, but the real beach part of Emerald Beach is pretty tolerant in general. They ain't as tolerant in town, east of the bridge," he said.
       "How many people would you say are out at school?" I asked.
       "I don't know. Sixty, seventy. Something like that," he said.
       "Are any of the teachers gay?" I asked.
       "I know one who is. A math teacher by the name of Mr. Mike Lawley. He's the best teacher I ever had, and he's also a friend of ours. His partner is Pat Taylor, Father Jerry's brother. I've got my suspicions about a few other teachers, too," Kyle said.
       "Like who?" I asked.
       "I'm not saying," he said. "I don't want to spread any rumors."
       "You guys are incredible," I said.
       "Naw, you can believe us," he said, and he and I laughed at his pun.

Chapter 16

(Denny's Perspective)
       I had just about decided that Brady and I couldn't be boyfriends anymore. I mean, I like him, but he's just way too immature for me. Take debate.
       He wanted to be my partner, even though I was a sophomore and he was only a freshman, and I thought that might be fun. It would give us a natural reason to sleep together on debate trips. At first the coach didn't want that. Eventually, though, I talked her into it. He hadn't gone to any debate camps during the summer, but I had. I thought I would have enough information and insight into the topic for both of us. He was pretty good at delivery, but that was a relatively minor part of debate, really. It was research and knowing the information that mattered, and being able to think clearly and logically on your feet.
       "I'll get as much information as I can on North Korea. Can you get it on Iraq?" I asked.
       Our debate topic was on whether the United States should have a policy on limiting our own weapons of mass destruction. That included chemical and biological weapons, as well as nuclear weapons. It was a huge topic, and there were a million aspects to it that we had to cover to be even minimally prepared.
       "I can cover Iraq," he said.
       "Now, don't let me down on this, Brady. If you can't do it, say so," I said.
       "I can do it. You don't have confidence in me," he said.
       "I do have confidence in you. It's just that it's so huge, and you don't have all that much background on it. Did you read that Web site from the University of Michigan?" I asked.
       "I checked it out," he said.
       "But did you read it?" I asked. I would have bet money he hadn't.
       "Not all of it. Don't be mad at me," he said in his most pitiful voice.
       "I'm going to be mad at you if you don't do your part. It's late, and I know Tim wants to go home. Let's go," I said. We were still at school in the debate room.
       We walked out to the parking lot where Tim and Murray were already waiting for us. Tim had already taken Sean home, and he had come back for us. We all got into Tim's car and took off. We dropped Brady off first. We kissed each other goodbye before he got out.
       "Call me tonight, okay?" he said.
       "Okay. I'll call," I said.
       I went upstairs after I had a snack and got busy on my regular homework. I got that knocked out in about an hour, and then I went downstairs to see what was going on. I changed into workout clothes first, though, just in case they were working out. I told Kevin and Rick hello as I passed through the den, but I didn't stop to talk. Kyle, Justin, Tim, Brian, Murray, Sean, Wade, and Reid were in the weight room working out. They had the music on so loud you could feel the bass. They all told me hello, and I went about doing my workout. I didn't like using free weights, so I just did my routines on the machines.
       "When are you going to get into the weights?" Justin shouted to me to be heard over the music.
       "I'd rather use the machines," I shouted back.
       "You would put on more muscle faster if you used the free weights," Jus said.
       He was extremely good natured, and I loved him to death, but he got on my nerves about the damn free weights. I didn't like them, and I wasn't going to use them. He said the same thing to me about them every single day.
       After a while, I worked up a pretty good sweat, and, frankly, I wasn't in the mood for the loud music and macho camaraderie of that group that day. I finally had all I wanted of it and went upstairs to take a shower.
       After I dressed, I logged onto the computer in my room and went to the University of Kansas Web site that had all the good stuff for debate. I got busy, reading and taking notes. I would cut quotes and statistics from the on-line material, paste it into the word processor, and print it on index cards. I found the topic fascinating, and it was easy for me to lose myself in what I was doing.
       Around 8:30 there was a knock on my door. It was Murray.
       "Kyle and Justin are going to take me to Pensacola on Saturday to see my grandmother," he said. "I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. Are you excited?"
       I wasn't one bit excited, but I couldn't very well say that.
       "Yeah. That's really cool. She's in a nursing home, right?" I said.
       "Yeah. Would you like to go, too? I've told her all about you, and she would like to meet you," he said.
       Murray and I were close, and I really cared about him a lot. I guess because of our closeness in age and everything, he and I were sort of paired up within the family. Chip Rooney was my best friend outside the family, Brady Stanton was my boyfriend and debate partner, and Murray was sort of my "best brother." I know he loved me, and I guess I loved him, too, platonically. I just couldn't spare the time to take a whole day to go to Pensacola.
       "I'd love to, Bubba, but I'm swamped right now. We've got our first tournament in three weeks, and Brady and I aren't even close to being ready. Are you and your partner close to being ready for it?" I asked.
       He had just started debate, and he and his partner, a freshman, were supposed to be in the novice division at the same tournament. I was on the JV team, and the competition would be a lot harder than it had been the year before as a novice. He had no way to know that, though.
       "We're getting there," he said. "Maybe you can go the next time."
       He sounded really disappointed that I couldn't go. I just hoped his feelings weren't hurt.
       "Did I hurt your feelings?" I asked.
       "No, that's okay," he said. "I understand."
       "Thanks, Bubba. Maybe next time," I said.
       He left, and I decided to call Brady. I dialed his cell number, and it was busy. He didn't have voice mail, so I couldn't leave a message. I went back to work.
       I tried four more times to call Brady that night, but every time the line was busy. That basically meant two things. Number one, he didn't want to talk to me enough to either call or at least keep his line open for me to call him, as I had said I would. Number two, he couldn't be working on debate while he was on the phone.
       Fine, I thought. I worked some more. At 10:30 I went downstairs to see what was going on. Kevin and Rick had already gone to bed. Justin and Kyle were playing a video game with the sound turned very low, and Brian was reading.
       "Where are Tim, Murray, and Sean?" I asked.
       "I don't know," Brian said.
       "Tim's reading upstairs," Kyle said. "He has to have Withering Heights finished by Friday."
       "Wuthering," Brian said.
       "What did I say?" Kyle asked.
       "You said 'withering,' and it's 'wuthering,'" Brian said.
       "What's the difference?" Kyle asked.
       "I don't know," Brian said, "but the name of the book is Wuthering Heights, not Withering Heights."
       "I think it's the past tense. Something could be withering right now, but something else could have been wuthering yesterday," Justin said.
       "That makes sense," Kyle said. "Like come and came."
       "Exactly," Justin said.
       Brian and I laughed softly, but those two were dead serious. They were so funny.
       I went into the kitchen and got a bowl of cereal and milk. I told them goodnight, and I took my snack up to my room. I tried Brady's number one more time, and it was still busy. Then it occurred to me that there might be something wrong with his phone. It was too late by then to try his parents' line, though.
       Oh, well, I thought, and I went to bed.
       * * *
       Brady wasn't in debate class the next day.
       "Where's your partner?" the coach asked me.
       "I don't know. I hope he's not sick," I said. And I hope he's not skipping school today so I don't have to kill him, I thought.
       "Where's Brady?" Brian asked me when it was time to go to lunch.
       "I don't know," I said, and we went to lunch.
       "Tim, would you mind swinging by Brady's house on the way home. I want to see if he's sick," I said after school.
       "Sure," Tim said.
       Brady answered the door when I rang the bell. He looked perfectly healthy.
       "Hi," he said.
       "Hi. Why didn't you go to school today?" I asked.
       "I didn't feel like it," he said.
       "Oh? Do you have the stuff about Iraq?" I asked.
       "No," he said.
       "Brady, I . . . "
       "You're mad, aren't you?" he said.
       "You're damn right I'm mad. Are you ever going to do it?" I asked.
       "Don't yell at me," he said.
       I had purposely not raised my voice one bit.
       "Well? Are you?"
       "I don't like debate, Denny. It's too hard," he said. "I'm going to quit."
       Just like that! He's going to quit! I had worked my ass off for two months on the topic. Kevin and Rick had spent a lot of money sending me to debate camp last summer so I could have a fighting chance of competing. They had bought me a new suit because I had outgrown my old one. They were fully prepared to send me off on debate trips for whole weekends at a time. And he wanted to quit. I was pissed.
       "Call me tonight," I said, and I turned around and walked back to Tim's car.
       Tim and Murray knew I was furious, and we rode home in dead silence. I went up to my room, threw myself onto my bed, and started bawling. I wasn't sad, and I damn sure wasn't happy. I was angry.
       I cried out my anger and frustration in a few minutes. I washed my face and went downstairs. They were still in the den eating a snack. Brian was there because he had a college class that night. He didn't work with the dogs on days when he had night class so he'd have time to do homework from day school.
       "What's the matter?" Sean asked.
       "I'm breaking up with Brady," I said. I said it coldly, without any emotion in my voice.
       "Do you want to tell us about it?" Tim asked kindly.
       "Not really. He's just too immature and irresponsible and manipulating for me," I said. "He's too young to have a boyfriend, or at least to have me for a boyfriend."
       "Is that what happened at his house today?" Tim asked.
       "No. I haven't told him yet. I will tonight on the phone. That is, I will if I can get a call through to him," I said.
       Brian had to leave for his class. Tim, Murray, and Sean went to their rooms, or somewhere, and I was in the den by myself.
       I decided to call Brady. He answered on the first ring. He might not have known it was me since I called from the house phone and not my cell.
       "Brady," I said. "I'm afraid it's over between us. I'm going to ask for a new debate partner tomorrow."
       "Just like that?" he asked.
       "It's been brewing since the summer, and you know it. We're not cut out for each other," I said.
       He started crying, but I could tell it wasn't a deep, emotional cry. It was more like he was acting than really crying.
       "Well, I still love you," he said. "I hope we can stay friends."
       "We can. I've got to go now. Bye." And I hung up.
       My first impulse after I hung up was to call him again and take back everything I had said. He was my first boyfriend, after all, and my first sex partner, too. I still had some feelings for him, but I knew I had done the right thing. I resisted the impulse to call him back.
       Just then, Kyle and Justin came home from college. Kevin and Rick came home shortly after they got there, and I went and changed for my workout. I let Justin show me how to use some of the smaller free weights that day, and I felt good.
       I got a new debate partner the next day. It was a kid who had just transferred to Beachside that week, and he was in his second year of debate, too. He had his case much further along than mine was, and I was happy. Brady got a schedule change for a new course a few days later at the end of the nine weeks, and my new partner and I got along great.

(Ken's Perspective)
       After Dan and I started dating, I had a whole new outlook on life. I was still living at the Foley-Mashburn house, but I was spending less and less time there. After we had been going out for a little more than three months, the physical passion between Dan and me led to sex. It was inevitable, and that added a dimension to our relationship that I had never known with Carolyn, my wife.
       Sex with Carolyn always seemed grudging on her part, and she probably thought the same of me. We didn't have sex two or three times a day the way many newlyweds did. It was more like once a week, if that. I'm convinced she never had an orgasm, and there were a few times when I didn't have one, either.
       Sometimes sex with Dan was hot and frantic and fast paced, each of us insatiable for the other. Other times, it was slow, unhurried, and gentle. We seemed to know intuitively what the other needed and wanted, and there was a true sense of sharing, of bonding, with him.
       Of course, we started small and took it slow. I wanted to one day feel him penetrate me anally, but there was certainly no rush for that. We talked about it, and we agreed that we'd both know when we were ready for it. I had read that oral love was the preferred form for most gay men, and that was entirely true for us. Neither of us was terribly experienced, but it was sure fun learning and experimenting together.
       Privacy wasn't much of an issue. His roommate belonged to several bowling leagues, and he was often gone until eleven or later on weeknights for that. He also worked late fairly often, sometimes even pulling all-nighters. It sounded to me like we needed more programmers, but that wasn't any of my business. The bottom line, though, was that he was just as gay as we were, and he understood our need to be alone together. We tried to hold the noise down when he was there, and it was never a problem.
       I started spending more and more nights at Dan's house, and he spent a few at our house, too. While everybody on North Lagoon Drive was happy for me and Dan, and while they certainly didn't have a problem with us making love there, it was a little inconvenient because of the bathroom on the third floor. There was only one up there, and a couple of times Sean walked in on us in compromising positions. He never complained or said anything (he was way too cool for that), and it was our own fault for not locking the door. But all of our sexual encounters in the bathroom were spontaneous and unplanned. Not only that, if Sean had had to use the bathroom, he couldn't have gotten in with the door locked.
       After that happened twice in the same weekend, we made it a point of confining our lovemaking to the bedroom or to Dan's apartment.
       With the tourists all but a memory by the end of October, it was time for me to get a place of my own. I wanted something on the beach, of course, and Dan and I spent one whole Saturday looking for apartments. The ones we found were either run down or too grand for me to afford comfortably.
       "We've been house hunting all day," I said when we got home. Most of them were in the den, waiting for it to be time to go to Mass.
       "Any luck?" Kevin asked.
       "Not really. We saw some beautiful places, if you have $1,200 or more a month to pay in rent," I said.
       "How much were y'all thinking?" Rick asked.
       "Not 'y'all,' Rick," I said. "Just me for now. I'd like to get something around seven hundred."
       "One bedroom or two?" Kevin asked.
       "I'd like two bedrooms and two baths, but that might be impossible to find in my price range," I said.
       "What about a townhouse, or even a free-standing house?" Kyle asked.
       "I'm not really interested in a house because I don't want to have yard maintenance," I said. "You have that with most townhouses, too, don't you?" I asked.
       "Yeah, pretty much," Kevin said. "You want a standard apartment. Right?"
       "Right," I said.
       "Well, the Sunday paper always has the most ads. Maybe something will be listed tomorrow," Rick said.
       That happened to be one of the nights that Dan stayed at our house, and the next morning he and I went to a convenience store to buy papers. On the way home, we stopped at a Spudnut Doughnut Shop and bought six dozen doughnuts.
       Dan and I pored through the apartment listings. There were about twenty listings that we hadn't seen the day before. We were able to eliminate most of those because they listed the rent and it was too much. We ended up with a list of six that looked like possibilities. After hanging out for a while with the family, and eating our share of the doughnuts, Dan and I took off. By then it was eleven o'clock, and even if we couldn't get anybody to answer the phone numbers they gave in the ads, at least we could eyeball the places from outside.
       The first place we went to looked like a fairly new development. There were probably twenty two-story buildings with what looked like eight apartments in each building. The entry had imposing brick gates on either side of the drive, and there was a building that appeared to be a recreation complex, with a nice pool behind it. The whole thing was landscaped very well, but there weren't too many cars around.
       We found the manager's apartment and rang the doorbell. A young guy came to the door. We told him we were looking for an apartment for me, and he called another young guy named Jim out to talk to us. Jim was actually the manager.
       He said that they had several vacant apartments but that they had only run one ad to economize. The place had opened in the spring, and they were only about half full.
       "That's why we're renting these for so little," he said. "Once this place fills up, these apartments will go for a good bit more than this, we hope."
       "How much is it?" I asked.
       "The first floor units are $785 a month, and the second floor units are $700," he said.
       The place was nice, and the one he showed us had never been lived in. It still had a strong odor of new carpet and new wood.
       There were indeed two decent-sized bedrooms, each with its own bath. The "master bedroom" had the bath leading off the room. The other bedroom had a door leading into the second bathroom, which was also accessible from the hall. The kitchen wasn't spectacular, or large, but there was a separate eating area and a very nice living room. There was a sliding glass door in the living room that opened onto a small balcony, which overlooked the pool. I thought the floor plan was nice. There was even a hookup for a washer and dryer off the kitchen. Because it was on the second floor, the living and dining areas had a cathedral ceiling.
       "Will you both be living here?" he asked.
       "No," I said. "Just me."
       "Do you have any pets? They're not prohibited, but there is a pet deposit that you have to put down if you have a pet," he said.
       "No. No pets," I said.
       "The place is wired for digital cable TV and Internet. Each unit has two designated parking places, but there is ample general parking for any guests you might have," he said. "Residents can use the Community Center for parties and whatnot when it's available, but you have to pay a cleaning fee each time you use it. We have a small gym in that building, too."
       "This is a nice place, don't you think?" I asked Dan.
       "I think it's very nice," he said. "How much furniture do you have?"
       "Not much. Since I don't have to pay alimony or child support, though, I can probably afford to buy a few pieces. Like a bed, for instance. And a sofa for the living room," I said.
       "Do your parents have any furniture in storage or anything?" Dan asked.
       "They might. I don't want to gut my room at their house, though. I know they'll let me take the entertainment center in my room, and, of course, the TV and DVD player and the stereo belong to me. They gave me the computer, and I know they'll expect me to take that. Carolyn and I bought a computer, but she kept it," I said.
       "Newly divorced?" the manager asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "There are a lot of single people living here. You'll fit right in," he said.
       "We've got a couple of more places on our list, but this one is looking good to me," I said. "Will you be here all day?"
       "If I'm not, my partner can help you out. He's the one who answered the door," he said.
       The word "partner" made me turn on my gaydar, but I wasn't getting any vibes out of him.
       Dan and I checked out a couple of more places we had circled in the paper, but none of them was as new or as nice as the first place was. By three o'clock I was tired of looking at apartments, and we went back to the first place and sealed the deal. I gave him all the checks he needed, and he gave me the keys. I could start moving in as soon as the utilities were turned on the next day.
       "I feel like such a grown-up," I said.
       "I know what you mean," Dan said. "I wish the electricity was turned on. We could have a campout there tonight."
       "I know. Me, too," I said.
       We were back at Kevin and Rick's place by four, and most of the guys were naked in the pool. I told Rick that I had rented an apartment, and he announced it to the crowd. I expect them to cheer at my good fortune. Instead, they booed.
       "Why are they booing?" I asked, very surprised and a little hurt by their reaction to what I considered good news.
       "They're booing because they don't want you to leave here," Rick said. "Like it or not, you're part of this family, Ken, and we don't like family members to leave."
       That put their reaction into a whole new light, and I actually choked up a little. I knew Dan did, too.
       "But we'll be back," I said.
       "Oh, I know that, and they do, too. But you won't be living here. The Townhouse Boys are here a lot, but they're not here all the time to play, like these guys would like them to be," Rick said. "Face it, Ken. You, and now Dan, too, are two of us, and that's the way it will always be."
       I was genuinely touched. I was very fond of everybody in the house. I knew some of them better than I did others, but they all had a place in my heart.
       "When will you be moving?" Rick asked.
       "They're supposed to turn on the electricity and telephone tomorrow. I could start moving tomorrow after work," I said.
       "How much do you have to move?" he asked.
       "My clothes and personal effects, of course. A few pieces of furniture from my folks' house. That's about all," I said.
       "Don't forget, I can get you a hell of a discount through the business on a lot of stuff, including furniture and kitchen equipment. Sheets, towels, pillows, pillow slips, curtains, blinds, too. Whatever you find in a hotel," he said.
       "Wow! You'd do that for me?" I asked.
       "Do you think we'd give you a place to live for months and not do that for you?" he asked.
       "Good point," I said, chuckling.
       "You need to make a list of what you want. Tomorrow, come up to see me, and I'll give you some catalogues to look through so you can pick out what you like," he said. "It usually takes about two days for the stuff we order to get here. In the meantime, you can stay here, hang out at Dan's place, or rough it in your new apartment."
       "I'm going to stay at Dan's place tonight. We need to work on a list," I said.
       "Is this an apartment for both of you?" Rick asked.
       "Not yet," Dan said. "It probably will be eventually, but we're taking everything slowly."
       "That's the best idea," Rick said.
       It would still be daylight for several hours, and Dan and I decided to go back to my new apartment and see what kind of dent we could make on the list. We worked on that for about an hour and got the list pretty complete. Then, as young lovers will, we fooled around and made love on the floor of my living room. I thought of it as a kind of christening of my new home.

(Murray's Perspective)
       One night we were hanging around the den. Actually, it was Kevin, Rick, Justin, Kyle, Tim, Brian, and me. Justin and Kyle didn't seem to ever have much homework. Of course, they didn't have class every day, so they had more time to do it than the rest of us. I knew Tim, Brian, and I had finished our homework. Sean must have been in his room, probably talking to his new friend, Scott. I knew Denny was in his room working.
       The phone rang, and Kyle answered it.
       "Murray, it's for you," he said.
       I had no idea who might be calling me on the house number. I had given my cell phone number to everybody at school who might want to call me, and that's how I got most of my calls. I took the cordless from Kyle and went into the study to take the call. It was my Nana.
       "Hello, my baby," she said, after I had said hello.
       "Nana! Hi! How are you?" I asked.
       "I'm doing okay, for an old lady," she said.
       "You're not old," I said. This was a favorite joke of ours.
       "Seventy-eight isn't young," she said.
       "I've been thinking about you a lot," I said. "I miss you so bad."
       "Oh, and I miss you, too, my Murray. Are the boys there being nice to you?"
       "Nana, this is the nicest group of boys I've ever known. I love these guys here," I said.
       "Do you still have a crush on the mensch?"
       "Nana!" I said.
       "You do, don't you. I'd like to meet this mensch. What's his name?" she asked.
       "Kyle," I said. "Kyle Goodson."
       "Is this Kyle a good boy? Does he behave himself? Is he kind?" she asked.
       "Of course, Nana. He's a mensch," I said.
       We talked for a long time. I called her at least once every week, sometimes more often, but I hadn't called her in eight or nine days. I knew she was lonely, and a lot of times it really made me sad to talk to her because she was all alone. I mean, there were a lot of people around, but I was her only family.
       "I wish I could see you," she said. "I'll bet you've grown. Those cigarettes haven't stunted your growth, have they?"
       I didn't know she knew I smoked. I mean, I only had three or four a day, but still.
       "No, Nana," I said.
       "Murray, don't be embarrassed. Boys smoke. As sure as there is night and day, boys smoke. Your father did when he was your age," she said. "So when are you coming to see me? I'd go see you, if I could."
       "I know you would, Nana, but I don't know when I'll be able to come see you," I said.
       "Well, I miss you, and I know you miss me. I love you, my Murray, with all my heart. Goodbye, my son," she said.
       "Goodbye, Nana. I love you with all my heart, too," I said.
       Tears were streaming down my face, as they always did when I talked to her on the phone. I didn't want to go back into the den until I had calmed down. All of a sudden, the phone I was holding rang. I answered it, and it was for Brian. I panicked for a second or two, but I knew I had to go back out there so Brian could take his call.
       I went into the den and told Brian it was for him. He took the phone from my hand, and he looked at my face.
       "Are you okay?" Brian asked before taking his call.
       "Yeah. I'm fine," I said.
       I wiped the tears away as best I could with my hands. Kyle saw what I was doing.
       "What's the matter, Bubba? Bad news?" Kyle asked.
       Of all the people in the house, Kyle was the one I liked the best. Denny was probably my best friend, but there was something about Kyle that was irresistible to me. But Kyle and Justin were both pretty gruff and very macho. Not put-on macho, just very masculine. That night, though, he was very sweet and nice to me.
       "I was just talking to my grandmother, and I always cry when I talk to her," I said.
       Kyle got up, came over to me, and put his arm around my shoulder. He led me to the sofa he had been sitting on, and he continued to hold me.
       "Justin and I are going to Pensacola this coming Saturday, aren't we, Justin?" Kyle said.
       "What the fuck are you talking about? I ain't going to Pensacola this Saturday, or any other Saturday that I know of," Justin said.
       "What the fuck I'm talking about is going to Pensacola to look at some boots. Don't you remember? I thought maybe Murray could go with us, and we could drop him off at the nursing home so he could see his grandma. Don't you remember, bonehead? It was your fucking idea to start with," Kyle said.
       Justin smiled.
       "Boots? I thought it was a camera for me," Justin said.
       "That, too," Kyle said. "Do you want to go with us, Murray?"
       I knew they didn't have plans to go to Pensacola and that they would be doing that just for me. All of a sudden, I started crying again. "Yes," I mumbled through my tears.
       "I thought you were diving on Saturday," Tim said.
       "Change of plans," Kyle said. "Justin and I are going to Pensacola, and Murray's coming with us. Who else wants to go?"
       They all said they already had plans.
       "We'll leave early and probably come home late. We might catch Mass at the Cathedral. I have a few things I need to say to that bishop, anyway," Kyle said.
       "Like what?" Kevin asked.
       "Like using ice water to baptize babies. If they're doing it in New Orleans, like they did to Rob, they're doing it here, too. I can guarantee you that," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, you're so full of shit," Rick said.
       "I'm serious as a heart attack, Rick. You heard him. The only time that baby even whimpered was when that priest poured that cold water on his head. And then he joked about it. They could have warmed that water up a little," Kyle said.
       "Don't be a crusader, son. It's not that big a deal," Rick said.
       Kyle laughed. He was only teasing, and even I knew that.
       "Can your grandma leave the nursing home, say to go out to lunch or something?" Kyle asked.
       "I don't know. Probably, if she takes her wheelchair," I said.
       Kyle pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his shorts and tossed it to me. I, of course, missed the catch and let it fall to the floor. I was such a klutz.
       "Here, call your grandma back. Tell her you'll be there Saturday, and ask her if she can go out to lunch. If she can, tell her the four of us are going," Kyle said.
       I was so happy, I started crying again. I dialed the number, and it took a few minutes for them to get her to the phone. I told her I was coming Saturday. She said she could go out to lunch, too.
       "It's the mensch, isn't it?" she said.
       "Yes, Nana. It's the mensch," I said.
       "Kyle, thank you so much," I said, once I had hung up.
       "Don't thank me. You're just bumming a ride, Bubba," he said.
       I could tell that everybody in the room was so happy for me. I was so happy I could hardly stand it. I wanted Denny to go with us, and I went upstairs and asked him if he would. He said he couldn't, and I understood why. I was disappointed, but that didn't change how happy I felt. When I came downstairs, somebody had made big bowls of ice cream for everybody, including me. Kyle's had a banana standing straight up between two huge globs of ice cream that were covered with coconut. It sort of reminded me of an erection, but I got that thought out of my mind before I got one myself.
       "That's sugar-free and fat-free, Murray. You can eat that," Justin said. "By the way, how many pounds now?"
       "Twenty," I said. "I'm half-way there."
       * * *
       I went to the football game Friday night with the rest of them, but I couldn't have been less interested in it. I had no idea of the rules of football, or even the point of the game, for that matter, but I cheered whenever the rest of them did. My mind was totally on the next day. We went out to eat after the game, but all I ordered was a Diet Coke.
       Once I had started to really lose weight, I had gotten into it. After the first ten pounds, I noticed a big difference in my clothes, especially my pants. I had what they called "baggy butt" jeans, which meant my jeans were really too big for me. And the more I lost, the more I wanted to lose. I was working out every day with them, too, and I knew I was getting stronger and more muscular. I knew I would never look like Justin or Rick or Kyle, but I hoped that I might one day look like Tim or Brian or Kevin. The difference was, those guys ate everything in sight without gaining a pound. I was learning that I couldn't do that.
       The Friday afternoon before we went to Pensacola, Kyle took me to the mall and bought me a new pair of jeans. They were Levi 501's, and they fit me well. They really felt good on me, and the waist size was thirty-four inches. I wore those to the football game Friday night, and I would wear them to see Nana on Saturday.
       I had a hard time getting to sleep the night before our trip because I was so excited. While we were at the mall, Kyle had made me buy Nana a really nice robe, a big box of chocolates, and a copy of his book. Actually, he paid for all of it, including my new jeans.
       He woke me up around seven o'clock, and we were out of there by eight. We stopped at a shopping center near our house. He went through the drive-thru at a Burger King and got four sausage biscuits each for him and Jus and a large coke apiece, too. He got me orange juice. He asked the girl at the drive-thru for a spoon.
       While we were doing that, Jus ran into the Winn-Dixie that was there and came out with two cartons of low-fat, sugar-free blueberry yogurt and a container of cut-up mixed melon for me. The hot food they were eating smelled delicious, but I really didn't like sausage very much, anyway. They were taking care of me, though, and that made me feel really special.
       When we got to the nursing home, Nana was all dressed up. She and I hugged long and hard, and I cried. She loved the presents I had brought her, and she made a big deal of showing them to her roommate. She introduced us to the other lady in her room. Her name was Rose. She seemed really nice, and she also seemed happy for my Nana.
       "Miss Rose, what are your plans for today?" Kyle asked her.
       She was a little hard of hearing, so Kyle had to say it again, louder.
       "I don't have any plans," she said.
       "You do now. Get dressed. You're going out with us. You've got a date with two handsome studs. Him and me," Kyle said, pointing to Justin and then to himself.
       Miss Rose got sort of giddy.
       "I mean it. Get dressed. Do you need some help?" Kyle asked.
       "Yes," she said.
       "Press that button there to call an assistant," Nana said, and Kyle did it.
       "This lady's got a date with us today," Kyle said, when the assistant came in. "She needs to get dressed to go out on the town."
       The assistant was a young black woman who seemed totally charmed by Kyle and Justin. You could tell she really cared about those ladies, too. That made me feel good.
       "She'll be looking fine for you boys," she said. "Give us about fifteen minutes, guys. Go out and have some coffee or a smoke or something."
       We went out to the lobby to wait.
       "The idea of having a smoke sounded pretty good to me," Justin said.
       "Let's do it," Kyle said.
       We went outside to a patio, and all three of us had a smoke. Justin corrected me for the hundredth time about how I held my cigarette, but I knew he was only doing that because he cared about me.
       "I can tell those are some very nice ladies," Kyle said.
       "Me, too," Justin said. "Murray, I think you favor your Nana a little bit."
       "I know. I favor my dad, and he favored her," I said.
       "I think they're both just as cute as they can be," Kyle said.
       When they were ready, two assistants wheeled them out. Kyle picked up Nana, and Jus picked up Miss Rose to put them in Kyle's car. Both ladies giggled. There was plenty of room for their wheel chairs in the back.
       "Where to, girls?" Kyle said, once we were in the car and on the road.
       "Wherever you want to take us. The man decides what the date is going to be," Miss Rose said.
       "Yeah, but we don't know Pensacola. We don't know where to go," Kyle said.
       "How about Seville Square?" Nana said.
       "I don't know where that is," Kyle said.
       "Pull over and get directions," Justin said.
       Kyle pulled into a convenience store and went in to ask for directions. He came out with a piece of paper that must have had directions written on it.
       "Read this to me and tell me where to go," he said to Justin. I was in the middle seat between Nana and Miss Rose, and Justin was in the shotgun seat.
       We got to Seville Square, and Kyle parked the car. We got the two old ladies into their wheelchairs, again by picking them up, and off we went. We went into shop after shop after shop, and gallery after gallery after gallery. The ladies were having a blast, and I was, too. But I think the ones who were having the most fun were Kyle and Justin. They flirted with Nana and Miss Rose constantly. I never would have expected that.
       We had lunch at a very nice restaurant, and Kyle picked up the ticket. I ate a diet lunch.
       "Murray, are they feeding you in Emerald Beach?" Nana asked at lunch.
       "Yes, ma'am," I said.
       "But you're losing weight," she said.
       "I'm losing weight because I'm dieting, Nana. I've lost twenty pounds already, and I've got twenty to go," I said.
       "I've never told you this, but you've needed to lose a few, my Murray," she said.
       "I know, and my brothers are helping me do it, Nana," I said.
       "Brothers indeed, Murray. Don't ever lose them. They love you, son," she said.
       We hit some more shops in that area after lunch, and then we went to a movie. It was definitely a chick flick, and I knew Kyle and Justin weren't interested in it. They were just going to it for Nana and Miss Rose. Miss Rose nodded out a few times during the movie, but Nana didn't.
       "Boys, I didn't think they made movies like that anymore. Did you cry? I did," Nana said.
       "No, ma'am. I didn't cry, but it was a good one," Kyle said.
       "Murray, I know this is the one you think is a mensch, and he is. But this other one is a mensch, too. This Justin," she said.
       "I know, Nana," I said. "I'm a lucky boy."
       "You don't even know how lucky you are," she said.
       Saying goodbye was hard, but we had had an unbelievably wonderful day.
       "Ladies, today was about the best time I've ever had with my clothes on," Kyle said, as we were saying goodbye.
       They giggled like middle school girls.
       "Shame on you, Kyle," Nana said, grinning and laughing.
       "No, ma'am, shame on you. I'm forever spoiled," Kyle said.
       "It's time for you to go home, Kyle," Nana said. "Thank you so much, boys. It's been a wonderful day for Rose and me. Take care of my baby, Kyle."
       "Don't you worry, Nana," Kyle said. "We will. And this ain't the last time you'll be seeing us. You and Miss Rose might just become our steady girlfriends."
       She beamed.
       Driving home Kyle said, "Goddamn it, Murray. We forgot to look at the boots and the cameras. You asshole. You suckered us into this. Now we’ll have to come back."
       "Shut up, Kyle, and thank you. I've never had a better day in my life," I said.
       He and Justin didn't say anything.
       "Say something," I said.
       "Thank you, Murray. That's what today was all about, and I'm glad it turned out like we wanted it to. Go to sleep or something," Kyle said.
       I could tell Kyle and Justin were both very emotional at that point. We drove along Highway 98 home to Emerald Beach. We passed a Baskin-Robbins in Ft. Walton Beach, and Kyle whipped back around as soon as he could. We stopped at that ice cream store and each of them got a huge treat. I got a regular one, too, and neither of them said a word about it.

(Nana's Perspective)
       "I'm so tired," I said.
       "Me, too, but didn't you have fun today?"
       "Rose, I had a fabulous time," I said. "Did you?"
       "Do you have to ask?" Rose said.
       "I didn't think so," I said. "Those boys were cute, weren't they?"
       "They were very cute," she said, and she laughed.
       "Did you know all three of those boys are homosexuals?" I asked.
       "No, but I wish you had told me before we went out with them. I would have felt safer," she said.
       I laughed, and she did, too.
       "I have a grandson who is a homosexual," Rose said.
       "So do I," I said.
       "Yes, but the difference is, yours comes to see you and takes us out. Mine doesn't come to see me," she said. “He lives in Texas.”
       "Is he ashamed of being a homosexual? I think my Murray was for a time, but it doesn't seem that he is anymore," I said.
       "I don’t know if my Todd is. I wish he could meet Murray and his friends. He and his father fight about it all the time. You and I have known about homosexuals all our lives, haven't we?"
       "Yes, but I think the new generation is a lot more accepting of that than our generation was when we were younger. Did you know any homosexuals as a girl?" I asked.
       "No." Rose said.
       "I didn't either. I know you didn't know these boys today were homosexuals. Did you have any sense that they were? Or did it matter to you?" I asked.
       "I did wonder about your grandson," Rose said.
       "Yes, he's pretty sissified, isn't he? But you know what? I don't care, and his two manly friends didn't either," I said.
       "I know," Rose said. "This was the best day I've had in a very long time, and I don't care if the whole world is homosexual."
       "Me, either," I said. "What difference does it make?"

Chapter 17

(Scott's Perspective)
       I noticed the new guy the first day he was in school at Beachside. He was in my math class, and he sat two seats ahead of me to my right. He was very good looking, he had really nice hair, and his clothes were the best. I couldn't wait for lunch to tell Colleen and Jenny about him. They were my two best friends, and they were in Drama Club with me. Colleen and Jenny were both straight, but Colleen had said more than once that she was open to all possibilities.
       I had come out to them around the middle of my freshman year. There was this senior that I couldn't take my eyes off. I later found out he was Kyle Goodson. I learned that he was gay, which gave me such an erection that I thought I would split my jeans, but I also learned that he was very, very taken.
       "Kyle's pretty hot, isn't he?" Colleen said to me one day.
       "God, I'll say," I said, without thinking of what I was saying or of what that was saying about me. Then I got embarrassed and blushed.
       "I'm Colleen Boyle, and this is Jennifer Stone, and we don't care if you're gay. In fact, you're pretty cute yourself," she said. "God, I'm dying for a cigarette. Do you smoke?"
       "Er, um, yeah," I said.
       I had smoked maybe five cigarettes in my life, but I didn't want to come across as a nerd to those two girls. I was a freshman, and they were both sophomores. The fact that they even talked to me was a borderline miracle, and I didn't want to appear immature.
       "Let's go," Colleen said.
       That was the start of our friendship. We had lunch together every day in the school cafeteria after that.
       "Why don't y'all go out to lunch?" I asked one day.
       "Too expensive," Jenny said.
       "Besides, we both got busted by our parents last semester for drinking and fucking, and if we go out, and they find out about it, I lose my car, even before I get it," Colleen said. "It's sort of like house arrest at school."
       Having lunch every day was just the beginning of the many things we did together. I spent the night at Colleen's house one time when Jenny was also there, and I lost at strip poker. Both of them were already down to bras and panties.
       "Let's see if we can get him hard," Colleen said.
       They did a seductive dance together and ended up stripping all the way. I was sure any straight boy in America would have been hard as a rock during that. All that happened to me was my dick grew a little longer without getting hard at all.
       "Yep, you're gay, all right," Colleen said.
       "I told you," I said.
       Colleen had scored a quart bottle of peppermint Schnapps, and we were half drunk by then. As the night progressed, we got drunker and drunker, and we all ended up passed out nude together in Colleen's bed. I was in the middle.
       We did other crazy things, too. One night when we were having a sleep-over at Jenny's house, we snuck out and drove all the way to Tallahassee to get fried chicken at a particular restaurant Jenny knew about. The place was closed when we got there. That was all right, though, because we still had a fabulous time doing it. Colleen had just gotten her license, like three days before. She narrowly missed wrecks in Blountstown and Bristol.
       Gradually, other people found out I’m gay, and nobody seemed to care. I worked up the nerve to tell my mom during the summer, and she said she already knew. So much for that. My sister and brother-in-law were next on the list, and they said they had suspected it, too. Oh, well.
       "We've got to get you a boyfriend," Colleen said at lunch one day at the start of my sophomore year.
       "I know," I said. "I'm desperately horny."
       "Come over tonight, and I'll teach you how to masturbate," Colleen said.
       "Very funny," I said.
       "Actually, the way I teach guys to masturbate is pretty funny," she said.
       "Have you really done that?" I asked, somewhat shocked.
       Jenny busted up laughing, and once again my naive little self had been taken in by Colleen.
       Enter Sean Kelly, stage right.
       The first day he was in school, I looked all over the cafeteria for him at lunch. I knew he had second lunch. Everybody in that class did. I couldn't find him anywhere, though.
       "Why do you keep looking around?" Colleen asked.
       "There's a new guy in my math class, and I want you to see him. He is totally hot," I said.
       "Is he gay?" Colleen asked.
       "I have no idea. I thought maybe the two of you could help me figure that out," I said.
       "My gaydar is famous, as you know," Colleen said.
       "Yeah, I know. That's why I want to show him to you," I said.
       "Well, I usually have to talk to them, too," Colleen said.
       "And say what?" I asked.
       "She says, 'Oh, by the way, are you gay?'" Jenny said. "That's her gaydar."
       We laughed.
       It was a good week later before I had a chance to show, and even introduce, Sean to my girls. He and I walked to the cafeteria after class, and he sat down at the table with me. The girls came over with their food, and we chatted. Sean was also a smoker, as I was, too, by then, and we showed him where he could smoke.
       I ended up going to Sean's house after school that day to shoot pool. Only we never got any farther than his bedroom, which was really nice, in a hotel-ish sort of way. I found out he was in foster care in an all-gay household and that Kyle Goodson was one of his honorary brothers.
       "Oh, my God!" I said, as soon as Colleen answered her phone that night.
       "What's the matter?" she asked.
       "I'm so in love, Sugar Britches. L-O-V-E," I said.
       "With me?" she asked.
       "Yeah, right. With Sean, dawlin'. With Sean," I said.
       "Tell me every detail. Leave nothing out, under pain of death," she said.
       I told her all about the afternoon. She had many questions, some of which I couldn't answer because I didn't know.
       "We definitely have to work on your interrogation skills. You need to ask the boy questions," she said.
       "He invited me over tomorrow afternoon, too," I said. "Do you think I should skip school tomorrow and get my hair styled? He has fabulous hair."
       She chortled.
       "Your hair is fine. How's the condom supply? I can spare a few, if you need them," she said.
       "We're nowhere near the condom-needing stage yet, but don't give them to anybody else. I might need them," I said.
       * * *
       As much as I loved my girls--my fag-hags, as they called themselves--our relationship was pure fun, silliness, and outrageousness. They both wanted to major in drama in college, and I thought they were off to a very good start in their chosen field. They were all camp, and they were absolutely fabulous.
       My relationship with Sean was different. He had asked about joining Drama Club, but his motives for doing that were suspect. Most of the "out" people at school that I knew were in Drama Club, although I knew others who were out and who weren't in that club. If I were a gay boy new to a school, the first place I'd go was the Drama Club. I'd meet other gay people there, and the rest of them who weren't gay wouldn't care if I was gay or not. Rednecks do not do Drama Club. Remember where you heard that.
       Anyway, my second "date" with Sean was at his house the next afternoon. Tim Murphy drove us to their house that day, too.
       "There's nothing at home to eat," Tim said. "Let's stop and get something."
       Fine with me, I thought. Then, seconds later, I thought, How am I going to pay for it?
       We pulled into a Sonic. Sean was in the shotgun seat of Tim's Jeep, and I was sort of crouched in the back. He had the top down.
       "I'm getting a double Sonicburger," Tim said.
       "I want an extra-long chili-cheese Coney," Sean said.
       "Scott?" Tim asked.
       "I don't have any money," I said, embarrassed.
       "That's okay. I'm buying," Tim said.
       "In that case, I'll have an extra-long chili-cheese Coney, too," I said.
       Tim placed the order, and in a few minutes the girl was there with our tray of food. We had ordered large cokes, too.
       Sean and I had trouble eating our foot-long hotdogs, with chili and cheese, and we both spilled chili out of them. We laughed.
       "Those things are great, but they should cut them in half or something," Tim said. "They're such a mess to eat whole like that."
       We continued eating, and that food was delicious to me.
       "What are you guys going to do this afternoon?" Tim asked.
       "I don't know. Hang out," Sean said.
       "Do you mind if I hang out with you?" he asked. "Everybody else is busy this afternoon, and for once I don't have any homework."
       "Not at all," I said.
       "Cool. There isn't much swimming time left this year. Would you guys like to swim?" he asked.
       "I'd like to, but I don't have a suit," I said.
       "You don't need a suit. We swim bare-ass," Tim said.
       When he said that, I instantly produced my own extra-long chili-cheese Coney in my lap, minus the chili and minus the cheese. I couldn't believe I would actually see Sean naked on our second date. And Tim, too. Oh my God!
       My erection had calmed down by the time we got to their house, but my briefs were very moist from the pre-cum I had been putting out. I made it a point of wiping the head of my dick on my briefs before I took them off so it wouldn't appear wet and slimy. Once we were in the pool, it wasn't much different than being in a bathtub.
       Sean and Tim both had really good builds, but I didn't think theirs were that much better than mine. Neither one of them had hair on their chests, which would have rocketed me out of there if they had, and their dicks were about like mine. Tim was uncircumcised, though, but I had seen that before. He also had a tattoo on his belly. Oh, my God!
       Then Kyle came home. He came out to the pool area with what looked like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He ate it standing there watching us, and then he stripped down to come in.
       OH! MY! GOD! He had a hair pattern on his chest that was to die for, and he had a little tattoo right above his pubic hair, too. I was surprised that the force of my erection when I took a look at him didn't blow me right out of that pool. He was a god.
       Kyle jumped into the pool, and he swam over to Tim. He kissed him on the lips, right there in front of Sean and me. I had never seen two guys kiss before.
       "Yum. You taste like peanut butter," Tim said.
       "Want some?" Kyle asked. He stuck out his tongue, and he had a wad of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich still in his mouth.
       "That's gross, Kyle," Tim said, but he was laughing.
       "I'll feed it to you, mouth to mouth," Kyle said.
       "No!" Tim said, and he and Kyle doubled over laughing.
       "They're in love," Sean said to me quietly.
       I smiled, but I would have let Kyle feed me that peanut butter and jelly sandwich any way he wanted to.
       We swam around and played in the pool. We talked a good bit, and I discovered that Kyle was much nicer and much sweeter than I had thought he was from seeing him playing Danny Zuko in Grease the year before. When I was a freshman, I was drawn to him like a moth to a light bulb, but I was sort of scared of him, too. That afternoon I realized he was just an ordinary guy and the way he sometimes talked was just that awful Emerald Beach grumble that I had grown up with.
       And then this big blond showed up. And then this unbelievably gorgeous guy that I had seen at school came outside, too. He had dark hair, a nice build, and the two dogs were at his heels. The blond turned out to be Justin, and the guy with dark hair (and an extremely sexy hairy chest) was Brian. I had met them the night before with their clothes on, but that day, naked, I was almost overwhelmed. They had tattoos, too. Whoa!
       "I guess this ain't a workout day," Justin said.
       "Naw. I declared a holiday in honor of Scott," Kyle said.
       "Are we going to just stand around here treading water, or we going to play volleyball?" Justin said.
       "Volleyball," Kyle said, and that's what we did.
       * * *
       "Colleen, I wish you had been a fly on the wall this afternoon," I said, right after she said hello.
       "What?"
       "Oh, my God," I said. "We swam naked in their pool. Not just Sean and I, although he was quite a sight, but Tim Murphy, Kyle Goodson, Brian Mathews, and a guy named Justin. I thought I was on Mt. Olympus."
       "I want pictures. Photographic evidence," she said.
       I laughed.
       "Ironically, Kyle has a picture book out. Sean showed it to me after we got out of the pool. Every one of them is in it," I said. "Sean isn't because he's new."
       "How can I get this book?" she asked.
       "It's in all the local bookstores," I said. "It's called Boys!, and it's fabulous. It's $85, though."
       "Shit! I can't afford that," she said.
       "I know. Me, either. I'll see if I can borrow a copy," I said.
       "You'd better, mister," she said.
       * * *
       That second "date" with Sean turned out to be pretty typical of the time we spent together. Those other guys were always around every time I went over there, but they lived there, after all. That was to be expected. Sometimes we hung out in his room, talking or fooling around on line. Other times we did stuff with the other guys. I didn't go over there every day or anything, but I did pretty often.
       Those first couple of weeks dating Sean were fabulous and fun and all, but I was aching to touch him, to kiss him. I got my chance on a Friday afternoon. We were going to the football game together with Kyle and the others. Neither Sean nor I could drive, although I actually knew how. We were still fifteen, though, so no licenses yet. We were in Sean's room, sprawled next to each other on the bed. I was on my back, and he was on his front. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked me in the face.
       "What?" I asked. He looked like he wanted to say something.
       "It's just that . . . "
       "It's just that what?" I asked.
       "It's just that I want to kiss you," he said.
       Before I could respond, he moved toward me and kissed me on the lips. I was in paradise. I kissed him back. Then he opened his mouth a little, and I could feel his tongue touching my lips. I opened my mouth slightly, and his tongue went inside.
       My heart was pounding, and I was a little short of breath. I felt incredibly good. We continued kissing for a few more moments, and I got an erection. He got sort of on top of me, and I could feel that he had an erection, too. It felt so good with him like that.
       He kissed me again and again, and I got as much of my tongue into his mouth as he got of his into mine. It was fabulous.
       He pulled back and rolled away.
       "What's the matter?" I asked.
       "Nothing. I thought I was about to come," he said. He blushed hard when he said that, and I probably did, too.
       "Sean, that was my first kiss," I said.
       "Ever? Wow! I'm really honored," he said. "Do you think your mom would let you spend the night?"
       "I can find out," I said.
       I called my mom at work, which was a no-no, unless there was an emergency. She wasn't pissed off that I had called her, like I thought she'd be, and she said "yes" without me having to beg. I guess she realized I was growing up.
       The football game was fun, but all I could think about was spending the night with Sean. We went out for food after the game, and there was quite a large group at the table. Kevin and Rick didn't go, but everybody else in the house was there. Some of their neighbors, who also went to Beachside, were there, too. Kyle left the table for about fifteen minutes to go around to a few other tables to talk to some of his friends, and Justin entertained us. He was real macho, but he had an incredibly dry sense of humor. He talked real country, but you could tell he was smart.
       We hung out downstairs a little while when we got back to their house. They were getting ready to watch a movie on HBO when Sean said,
       "Let's go upstairs."
       We told the others goodnight.
       "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Justin said, to tease us.
       "We won't," Sean said.
       Once we were in his room, Sean grabbed me in a big hug, and we kissed. Oh, did we kiss! In a matter of moments we were both rock hard.
       "Do you want to take your clothes off and get in bed?" he asked.
       "Yeah," I said eagerly.
       We undressed. I desperately wanted to see what he looked like with an erection, but I didn't really get to. Once we were in bed, though, we were on each other in an instant. We kissed and hugged and rubbed and caressed. Sean licked my nipples, and that felt incredible. I licked his, too, and he moaned when I did it.
       It didn't take us long to get where we both wanted to go. My orgasm was the strongest of my life, and I felt totally relaxed and at ease when we were finished.
       "Did you come?" Sean asked facetiously.
       I giggled.
       "That was fabulous, Sean," I said. "Thank you."
       "Thank you, too," he said.
       That was just the beginning for the evening. We got each other off three more times, and the last time neither of us made any cum. Ironically, though, that was the strongest one of the night for me.
       "I guess we're boyfriends now," I said, right before we went to sleep.
       "I've considered you my boyfriend for a couple of weeks now," he said.
       "Me, too, but now it's official," I said.
       "Yeah," he said.
       He spooned up against my back, and we drifted off to sleep with the bedside light still on.
       * * *
       "Oh, my God! Colleen," I said when she answered.
       "Now what?"
       "We did the deed, and we're officially boyfriends," I said.
       "Did what deed? Sex?"
       "Yes, sex. It was incredible," I said.
       "It didn't hurt?" she asked.
       "Hurt? Why would it . . . oh, not that kind of sex. Not screwing. Just guy sex," I said. "Those are all the details you're getting."
       "Good. I don't really want any more. I'm happy for you, Scottie, I really am. Now if only I could get laid," she said.
       "You've never been laid?" I asked. I had assumed she hadn't been a virgin for a long time.
       "Of course, I've been laid. It's just been a while. Since the summer, actually," she said. "But, to get laid, you have to know some non-fag boys, and to know some non-fag boys, I'd have to give up my title as Fag-Hag-in-Chief." I giggled.
       We talked for about an hour, mostly gossip and stuff about Drama Club. She was in the current production and wasn't at all happy about her part. Neither of us had been in the first play of the year, and I wasn't in the current production, either. It was Much Ado About Nothing by Shakespeare. The drama teacher, Mrs. Storm, hadn't fully cast the bit parts yet, so I still had a chance at something. That club was dominated by juniors and seniors, and a sophomore guy like me rarely got good roles. Such was life.
       As the days and weeks rolled on, Sean and I got to know and like each other more and more. I actually thought I was in love with him, but I didn't say anything for fear he'd laugh at me. We learned more and more about sex, too, and that part was lots of fun.

(Tim's Perspective)
       The College Board came through for me, and I was named a National Merit Semi-finalist. I was so happy. It was an affirmation for me, and it also meant that Kyle and I were on an equal footing intellectually. It really pissed him off that I had that attitude, but Kyle and I had very different academic career plans. They weren't incompatible by any means, but my “good ole boy” just wasn't interested in that kind of thing.
       Brian was ecstatic when he found out my news when it was announced at school. He found me between classes, and we hugged and carried on in the hall. He had tears of joy in his eyes for me. I immediately called my dad.
       "I'm so proud of you, Tim," he said on the phone. "We have to celebrate tonight. You, Kyle, Justin, and Brian. Let's go out to dinner."
       "Okay, Dad," I said. "I'm really happy right now."
       "Did you tell Kyle yet?" he asked.
       "Not yet. I wanted to tell you first," I said.
       "Thank you, but call your boy right away, Tim," he said.
       "Yes, sir, I will," I said.
       I called Kyle and told him. To my surprise, he was genuinely happy and excited.
       "They want us to go out to dinner with them tonight to celebrate," I said. "Can you make it?"
       "Can I make it? Of course. I'd drop everything for you, Babe," he said.
       We had a celebration of sorts at home when everybody was finally home that afternoon.
       "We've got one more to go, and that's Brian," I said. "He took the PSAT again, and it'll be official this time."
       "I hope," Brian said.
       "You know it will be," Kevin said. "Hell, you already have the SAT score you need, don't you?"
       "Yes, sir," Brian said. "I'm just so happy for Tim, I'm not thinking about me right now. Besides, I don't know if you can be a semi-finalist if you're already in college."
       The four of us showed up at my parents' house at six, as instructed. Kyle's parents were already there, and that was a surprise to me. Rita had a card for me that said "Congratulations!" and inside there were ten crisp hundred dollar bills. I was weak.
       We went to the best restaurant on the beach, and it also happened to be one of the fifty best in North America. They didn't take reservations, but they got us right in. The owners, two brothers, came to our table to say hello. They knew Gene and Rita well, it seemed, and they knew who Kyle was, too.
       "Kyle, it's time you got the secret password," one of them said.
       "What?" Kyle asked.
       "The secret password. Don't give it out, or you'll be blackballed. It's what you say to the maitre d' to get a table without waiting."
       He leaned down and whispered something in Kyle's ear.
       "Just say that to the person at the desk out front, and you'll have a table in ten minutes. Even if there's a line a mile long," he said. His name was Mr. Johnny.
       "Do you know it, Daddy?" Kyle asked.
       "I've known it since I was eighteen years old," Gene said. "I couldn't tell it to you, though. It's a secret."
       "I wish I had a dollar for every minute I've waited in line to get in here, Mr. Johnny. I'd be a rich man today," Kyle said.
       There was a little bit of an awkward silence when Kyle said that. He hadn't meant anything by that, of course, but I was sure those two men knew that Kyle had money.
       "I regret that your precious brother didn't live long enough for us to give it to him," the other brother, Mr. Jimmy, said.
       "I know, but I'll use it good in his name," Kyle said. He used the Emerald Beach grumble, and those two men smiled. They knew their own, and Kyle was definitely one of their own.
       "So, let's talk about college," Dad said, after the brothers left our table.
       "It's Tulane for Brian and me, and UNO for Kyle and Justin," I said.
       "Are you going to go Early Decision?" Dad asked.
       "Yes, sir, I think so," I said.
       "Have you started on the application yet?" Dad asked.
       "Well, we printed it off the Web site, but I haven't started writing it yet. Have you?" I asked Brian.
       "Not yet," Brian said.
       "Dad, we're going to go for the full Presidential Scholarship. We probably won't get one, but we both fit the profile for it," I said.
       "You know the cost isn't an issue," Dad said.
       "Or for you, either, Brian," Gene said.
       "Yeah, I know that. I think we want the prestige, though," I said.
       "Not a bad idea, Son," Dad said. "What about back-up schools?"
       "Loyola and UNO," I said. "But we'll have time to apply to them, if Tulane says 'no' to us."
       "Tulane ain't going to say 'no' to y'all, Babe," Kyle said. "Seth's uncle is on their Board of Trustees or whatever. Seth told me we're all in there, if we want to go there. Justin and I just don't want to go there because they don't offer Hospitality. And that's what we want to take."
       "Who is Seth?" my dad asked.
       "Dad, he's the son of Cherie's law partner in New Orleans. You've met him. He spent the summer with us last summer," I said. "He's the one we met at Mardi Gras a couple of years ago. He was real scrawny and all, but he's not that way, anymore. He's our brother, Dad."
       "Of course. Seth. He's gay, and his partner is Curt, right?" Dad said.
       "Yes, sir. That's the one," I said.
       "His parents are Matt and Cathy, right? Charming people. Of course I remember Seth," Dad said.
       "I can't believe the web of important connections I married into," Sonya said.
       "Well, it's there," Rita said. "And all I ever want to do is shop."
       "Yeah, Rita, and raise five million dollars every year for children's charities," Dad said.
       "Well, that's kind of like shopping, don't you think?" Rita said.
       "No. It's kind of like major philanthropy, Rita, and you know it," Dad said.
       "Well, I consider it a form of shopping," Rita said.
       We all sort of chuckled.
       "Back to the issue at hand," Gene said. "I think these boys have got it all figured out. These two are going to Tulane University, and these two are going to the University of New Orleans. I'm shedding big ole Gator tears over that, but you've got to let your children do what they want to do."
       They delivered our appetizers just then. We had ordered their grilled shrimp, which were shrimp in the rough with a spectacular sauce.
       "How do you eat these things?" Sonya asked. Kyle demonstrated.
       "Sop up that sauce with the bread," Gene said.
       I did it, and it was delicious. They brought finger bowls to the table to rinse your hands after you ate the shrimp, and I had never seen that before.
       * * *
       "Tim, have you thought about any Ivy League schools?" my dad asked me in private.
       "Yes, Dad. I have," I said. "But I don't think those schools are for us."
       "You could probably get into Harvard, you know?"
       "Yes, Dad, I know, but I don't really want to go there," I said.
       "You don't think Kyle would fit in at Harvard? Is that it?"
       "Dad, Kyle would fit in anywhere, and you know that. Harvard might even accept him. He's got the scores for it, for sure. But that's not what we want, Dad."
       "I know. But every Boston boy wants his son to go to Harvard," he said.
       "I know, but it's not going to work out this time. You've got a different kind of son, Dad," I said.
       "I know. And I thank God for him every day," he said. "And for Kyle, too."

(Kevin's Perspective)
       "Babe, I've been thinking about the third floor," Rick said one day, out of the blue.
       "Thinking about the third floor? What do you want to do, move up there? Are you tired of sleeping with me already?" I felt real playful, and I wanted to tease him.
       "Shut up, Kevin. I'm trying to be serious," he said.
       Evidently he wasn't in a playful mood.
       "Okay. What were you thinking?" I asked.
       "I was thinking we might do some remodeling up there. We've got that great big room that isn't used for anything. I was thinking we could turn it into two extra bedrooms and put in another bathroom," he said.
       "That might not be a bad idea. We could set it up like a mirror image of the other side of the house. Or, we could put in two bathrooms on that side, like the second floor," I said.
       "I like that idea. How many bathrooms would that give us?"
       "Who knows. Enough, though," I said.
       "Is it okay with you if I get some estimates?" he asked.
       "Of course. We've never done any building, have we?" I said.
       "No. Sean can move into one of the new rooms so he can have his own bathroom. I think he'll probably be willing to sacrifice the space in the bedroom to have a private bath, don't you?" Rick said.
       "Probably. We can let him decide, though," I said.
       Rick got busy on his project. We mentioned to the boys what we were talking about doing, and they thought it was a good idea, too.
       "And it really won't inconvenience anybody, will it?" Tim asked.
       "It shouldn't, except there will be workmen in the house for a few weeks. The back side of the third floor won't be touched. It's only the front side," Rick said.
       "Cool," Tim said.
       When the work actually started, it turned out Kyle knew two of the three guys on the project. It went faster than I thought it would, and within a month we had two brand new bedrooms and two brand new bathrooms. It didn't end up being terribly expensive, although the plumbing for the bathrooms cost more than I thought it would. We decided to put extra-large showers in them, with no tubs. While the plumbers were there working, we went ahead and had them install urinals in all the bathrooms except the one off the study. The boys thought that was a wonderful idea. Why more people who had boys in the house didn't do that was beyond me.
       Rick ordered furniture, towels, sheets, and all the rest of the stuff. We had the curtain lady back to do the curtains, though, so they would look like the ones in the rest of the house. Our clan could grow by three more boys, but that was about the limit.
       * * *
       Every year the school system shut down for two and a half days near the end of October. The year before we had taken the guys to New Orleans to see the newly-pregnant Cherie, and the year before that we had gone to my parents' place in North Carolina for a long weekend. That weekend was approaching, and we didn't have any plans.
       "Guys, I've been thinking about the long weekend at the end of the month. Do y'all want to plan a trip?" I asked.
       All nine residents of the house were present. Ken had already moved into his new apartment, and he and Dan were getting along famously as a couple who appeared to be very much in love. Since he was gone, it meant that the household consisted of Rick, me, Tim, Kyle, Justin, Brian, Denny, Murray, and Sean.
       "Of course," Kyle said. "Where to?"
       "I don't know," I said. "Murray and Sean have never been to North Carolina with us. That's a possibility."
       "You know where I've always wanted to go? St. Augustine," Kyle said. "You hear about that place all the time, but I've never been there."
       "That's doable in four days," Rick said. "It's a pretty neat place. I used to go surfing there when I was in college."
       "Do you think all of us could squeeze into one car?" Brian asked. "We don't really have a nine-seater."
       "No, but I think we could manage in Kyle's Land Cruiser, especially if we rented a luggage container to put on the roof," Rick said. "I'd like for all of us to be together in one vehicle. That's some of the best family time we ever have."
       "Oh, yeah. It's got to be all in one. We can take turns sitting on people's laps, if we have to." Kyle said. "Plus, it ain't that far."
       "True," Rick said. "We can make it there in about seven hours, probably, especially if we go around Jacksonville."
       "Does St. Augustine suit everybody?" I asked.
       "It does me," Kyle said.
       "Hell, I'll go anywhere. You know that," Jus said.
       The rest of them agreed that St. Augustine sounded good.
       "Kyle, will you take charge of doing some research to find out what there is to do in St. Augustine?" I asked.
       "Sure, I'll be happy to," he said. "I'll try to get something by tomorrow night. We really don't have that much time. Are you going to see about hotel reservations, Kevin?"
       "Yeah, I'd better do that. How many rooms are we going to need?"
       "One for you and me," Rick said. "Do you Big Four want to be in the same room?"
       "Sure," Brian said. "That's okay, isn't it, Buddy?"
       "Yep," Justin said.
       "Is that okay with you guys?" I asked Kyle and Tim.
       "Of course," they said in unison.
       "And then a third room for Denny, Murray, and Sean? Is that okay, guys?"
       They said it was.
       "Okay. It looks like we've got a trip to go on," I said.
       "I'll see about renting a luggage rack for the car," Kyle said. "Where would you go for something like that? U-Haul?"
       "I'd start there, for sure," Rick said. "If they don't have them, maybe they can tell you who might."
       "You might also try the Toyota dealership," Brian said. "They might have one that's made for a Land Cruiser."
       "Good idea. In fact, I'll call them first," Kyle said. "This is going to be fun. You new boys have already been on one trip with us, so you know we like to have a good time."
       "Yeah," Sean said.
       "Well, let me get busy," Kyle said. "Babe, are you going to need the computer in our room tonight?"
       Tim thought for a minute. "No. Use it all you want, Babe."
       "Okay," Kyle said, and he gave Tim's leg a little affectionate squeeze.

Chapter 18

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I liked nothing better than planning parties and trips. I didn't waste any time getting to my research, either. I found a whole bunch of references to St. Augustine through the search engine, and I clicked on the first one. They had a link to "attractions," and that's the one I went to. I wasn't on the site five minutes when my phone rang.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hi, Kyle. It's Cherie," the voice said.
       All I could think of was something was wrong with the baby.
       "What's the matter?" I said.
       "What's the matter? Nothing's the matter. Is that how you greet your favorite auntie?"
       "Sorry. I thought maybe something had happened to Rob," I said.
       She laughed.
       "Relax. He's fine. This is a business call. I'm calling as your lawyer," she said.
       "What'd I do?" I asked.
       "Did I catch you at a bad time, Baby? You sound awfully agitated. I can call back tomorrow, if you'd like," she said.
       I laughed that time.
       "No. This is a good time. Let's start this all over. I'll pretend the phone just rang."
       She laughed.
       "Hello," I said, in a real calm voice.
       "Hi, Kyle. It's me. Cherie," she said, laughing.
       "Cherie who?" I said.
       That really made her laugh.
       "Oh. Hi, Cherie. How are you? It's good to hear your voice," I said.
       "And it's good to hear yours. How's it hanging, Bubba? It is hanging, isn't it?" she said.
       "Not since I heard your voice, it ain't. You know what you do to me, and I love phone sex," I said.
       She was laughing some more.
       "You fool-boy," she said. "Listen, I've got some business to discuss with you. Is this a good time?"
       "First tell me what Rob is doing," I said.
       "His father is trying to feed him baby food, and he's making a colossal mess of it," she said.
       While we were making small talk, I was racking my brain to try to figure out what business she might have with me, and then I remembered I still hadn't deposited those damn checks. I got sort of a weak feeling in my stomach.
       "Do you need to go take over?" I asked, hoping she did.
       "No. Craig can handle Rob. You know why I'm calling, don't you, and you don't want to talk about it," she said.
       "Cherie, I honestly forgot. I'll deposit them tomorrow. I promise," I said.
       "Kyle, by my reckoning, you have one hundred thousand dollars in un-cashed, un-deposited checks lying around somewhere, and that's not good. I want those checks in the bank by noon tomorrow, do you hear me?"
       Yikes! She was really pissed off at me.
       "Okay, I'll do it. On my honor," I said.
       "You'd better, mister," she said.
       "I will. I gave my word of honor, and I'll do it," I said. "Don't be mad at me, okay?"
       She laughed.
       "I'm not mad at you, Baby," she said. "I think you need to give serious thought to putting that money to work for you."
       "You mean like in savings? I will."
       "No. I mean like in some investments," she said.
       "I thought I had plenty of investments," I said. "Ain't that where the money comes from every month?"
       "Yes, it is, and yes, you do have quite sizeable investments. I'm thinking real estate, Kyle. Rental property there in Emerald Beach. Do you know anything about that?"
       "No, ma'am. I know my daddy has a good bit of rental property, but I don't know how it works except that my friend Philip's family handles it for him," I said.
       "With your permission, I'd like to give Gene a call and discuss this with him. Is that all right with you?"
       I got a little nervous.
       "Please don't tell him I haven't deposited those checks. He won't like that at all," I said.
       "I'm not going to tell him that. I want to see what he thinks about the real estate market over your way right now. I have a hunch that people want to unload beach rental property at this time of year. If they do, you might be able to do really well with the money you've got undeposited in your bureau drawer. It is in the house, isn't it? It's not still in your car, I hope."
       "It's in the house," I said.
       "Well, may I call Gene?"
       "Sure. Just don't get me in trouble with him, okay? He'll rip me a new one if he finds out I've been irresponsible with that much money," I said.
       "Well, you haven't been exactly careful, but I wouldn't call what you've done being irresponsible with money. I'd say you'd been irresponsible with money if you had spent it all and had nothing to show for it. You don't spend much money, do you?" she said.
       "I spend money. It's just so much. Plus, I worked all summer and earned my money. That's the money I spend," I said. "I don't really need anything, and I hate to shop. That's one of the gay genes I missed out on."
       She laughed.
       "Well, let me call Gene right now. Do you know if he's home?"
       "As far as I know he is," I said.
       "Okay. Let me give him a call."
       "Call me back and tell me what he says, okay?" I said.
       "Okay. It sounds like you might actually be interested in this," she said.
       "Well, I am, I guess. Thanks for looking out for me, Cherie. I love you," I said.
       "I love you, too, Kyle. Bye."
       We hung up. I really felt bad for not depositing those fucking checks. I got up and took them out of the drawer. I put them in an envelope and stuck it between my wallet and my keys on the dresser. That way there was no way I could forget about it in the morning.
       I went back to surfing the Web for things to do in St. Augustine. I found some really neat sites about forts and such. I started writing down notes like crazy, and then I decided to just print the pages so everybody could see them. I didn't leave anything out, even though I knew I wasn't interested in seeing some of that stuff.
       About forty-five minutes later my phone rang again.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hi. It's me. I just got off the phone with your dad, and he absolutely loved the idea. He had no idea how much money you get every month," Cherie said.
       "He didn't? Did you tell him?"
       "Yes. I thought I had your permission to do that," she said. She sounded worried.
       "You did. Cherie, I trust you. You have my permission to do or say whatever you think will help me out," I said.
       "Okay. I'm glad you said that," she said. "Craig thinks I'm too scrupulous about confidentiality, but I would much rather err on the side of caution than violate a confidence."
       She said that very fast, and I wasn't real sure what all that meant. I didn't say anything.
       "You there?" she asked.
       "Yeah. I was just trying to figure out what you just said," I said. "What do I do next? Besides deposit the checks, I mean."
       "I think your dad will probably call you and want to meet with you tomorrow," she said. "Can you take a meeting with him?"
       "Yeah, I can take having a meeting with him. We get along good, as long as I don't piss him off," I said.
       There was a long pause.
       "Kyle, 'take a meeting' means 'have a meeting.' It doesn't mean 'tolerate having a meeting,'" she said.
       "Oh. Yeah, I can take a meeting with him, as long as he doesn't want to parade me all around that hotel again, like he did the last time. Last time, he must have said a hundred times: this is Kyle, the 'and Son' of 'Goodson and Son, Inc.' I was dressed in a damn bellhop suit at the time. Then we went to lunch with all these major guys he knows in Destin. Sheesh!"
       "Was the lunch good?"
       "Yeah, it was very good. I didn't get enough, though. I had to stop and get me a Burger King on the way home," I said.
       She laughed.
       "You are too cute. Do you know that?" she asked.
       "So are you. That's why every guy in this house is in lust with you," I said.
       "Let's get off the phone in case your dad wants to call you," she said.
       "Okay. Thanks, again, Cherie. And you really do have my permission to say or do anything that's going to help me out, okay?"
       "Okay, Bubba. I love you."
       "I love you, too," I said, and we hung up.
       I put the phone down next to the computer and tried to get back to work. I wasn't off the phone three minutes when it rang again.
       "Hello," I said.
       "Hello, Son. Who have you been talking to?"
       "Cherie. How you doing, Daddy?" I asked.
       "I'm doing good. How are you doing?"
       "I'm doing real good. Were you surprised at the Gators last Saturday?"
       "Kyle, don't get me started on those Gators. I cussed Rex Grossman ninety to nothing all during that game for leaving that team. That was about the sorriest quarterbacking I have ever seen, and I've watched many a Florida State and Auburn game, so I've seen plenty of sorry quarterbacking before," he said.
       "I know. Daddy, we're fixing to go to St. Augustine next week," I said. "We've got Thursday and Friday off. Did you know I've never been to St. Augustine?"
       "No, I didn't know that. Our family really never traveled much in Florida, which is a damn shame. You ought to know your home state, at least. Listen, Son, I need to meet with you about what Cherie was talking about. What's on your calendar for tomorrow?"
       My calendar? I didn't have a calendar.
       "I've got classes at nine and ten, but that's it," I said.
       "Will you let me buy you lunch here in Destin?"
       "Yes, sir. Sure. What time?" I asked.
       "Just come straight over from the college. You could be here by 11:30 or so, couldn't you?"
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       "Okay. It's a date, then. Just come to my office. We'll eat here in the hotel. It's a damn fine restaurant, and that'll give us some time to talk," he said.
       "Okay. I love you, Daddy."
       "I love you, too, Son. Bye."
       Right after I hung up, I thought, Oh, fuck! I can't do that. I have to be at the bank before noon, and it doesn't open until nine. I'd just have to cut my ten o'clock class. That was all there was to it.
       *****
       Too much had happened that night for me to be able to concentrate on planning a trip. I'd have to do that another time. I went downstairs. Denny was in the den reading, but he was the only one there.
       "Where is everybody?" I asked.
       "Murray's in his room, probably doing homework. Sean's upstairs, too, probably on the phone with Scott. The rest of them are in the clubhouse, I think," Denny said.
       "What are you reading?"
       "To the Lighthouse, by Virginia Wolfe. Have you read it?"
       "No," I said. I had never even heard of it.
       "I'm reading all of Wolfe, and then I'm going to read all of James Joyce," he said. "I just finished reading all of T. S. Eliot."
       "Is that the guy who wrote Cats?" I asked.
       "Yeah, it is. Very good," he said.
       "I ain't totally dumb, you know," I said.
       "Yes, you are. Or at least you pretend to be," he said.
       I laughed a little bit. "Hey, listen. I want to sit down with you one day so you can brief me on what y'all are debating this year, okay? I need to know stuff like that, and I know I'm not going to take the trouble to read about it. What's it on this year?" I asked.
       "Weapons of mass destruction, and, Bubba, I'd be happy to do that any time. Right now, even," he said.
       "No, not right now. I'm too hyped up to pay good attention. But like Kevin says, this family has resources a lot of other families don't have, and I want to take advantage of you as a resource. And I'm serious," I said, and I was.
       "Kyle, you just made my day, Bubba," he said, grinning big.
       "Maybe later this week, okay?" I said.
       "Sure. Any time," he said.
       I went into the kitchen to see what we had to eat. Somebody had gotten a huge box of Popeye's fried chicken, and I ate me four or five pieces of that. It was good, and I washed it, and two Popeye's biscuits, down with about a half a quart of chocolate milk. I grabbed me up a handful of cookies for dessert.
       I opened the freezer to see what we had in the breakfast department, and I took out two pounds of bulk sausage. I sliced it up still frozen on the slicing machine I had made them buy, arranged the slices on two cookie sheets, and stuck those in the refrigerator. They would be thawed in the morning, and I could just pop those in the oven. I noticed there was a pack of twenty-four frozen biscuits. I left those in the freezer, but I'd be cooking those the next day, too. Then I had second thoughts. I sprayed down a cookie sheet with Pam and arranged the biscuits on it. I put that in the refrigerator to thaw, too, and doing that would save me a few minutes of cooking time in the morning.
       I foraged a little bit in the refrigerator. I found low-fat, sugar-free yogurt for Murray. There was also a large container of fruit salad. Everybody would like that. I thought breakfast was done, except for the cooking of it.
       "What are you doing, Kyle?"
       He startled me, and I about shit my pants.
       "Sorry, Bubba," he said. It was Kevin. "What are you doing?"
       "I'm getting breakfast set up. I do this almost every night, Kevin," I said.
       "Really?"
       "Yeah, really. We don't have all that much time in the morning, and everybody wants to be able to eat and get out of here," I said.
       "You do so much for this family, Kyle," he said.
       "Naw. Not really. I do it because I like doing it. If I didn't like it, I wouldn't do it," I said.
       "What are Rick and I going to do when you and Tim, and Justin and Brian leave here?"
       "You and Rick will be glad to get rid of us," I said.
       He just looked at me.
       "Will you be glad to be gone from here?" he asked.
       Why did he have to say that? He knew I wouldn't. Goddamn it, Kevin, I thought.
       "How can you even ask that question? Huh? You know I won't," I said. I was almost ready to cry.
       He grabbed me to him in a hug.
       "I don't want to grow up, Kevin. I really like being a kid," I said. "I've been on the phone tonight with Cherie twice and my dad once. I have to meet with my dad tomorrow about investments. I don't want to do that. I just want to go out there and shoot pool and have fun. I don't want to think about this other stuff."
       He rubbed the back of my head, and I felt real love coming from him.
       "I understand," he said. "Calm down, Bubba. Kyle, you are a very special person. Many, many people have seen it in you and have commented on it. More than you realize it, you're the central force in this family. Rick and I are the parents, but we couldn't do it without you."
       "All in the world I wanted to do tonight was plan our trip to St. Augustine. Or at least get information so we could all plan it. I probably didn't spend more than an hour doing that. Tonight was all about investments. Shit, Kevin. Having money is a curse," I said.
       "Do you mind telling me how much you have?"
       "Hell, no. Sixteen million, or a little more. I get a check for ten thousand dollars a month, and that's just like some little minor dividend or something. I want to give money to Tim, Justin, and Brian, but Cherie won't let me. She says I can't do it until I'm twenty-one. I'm getting ten thousand dollars a fucking month, Kevin, and they're not getting shit. That's just wrong," I said.
       "What are you doing with all that money?" he asked.
       "Nothing. That's just it. I've only deposited one check so far, and I've gotten eleven. I've got ten checks in my room," I said. "She chewed me out good over that tonight. And I know she's right. She and my dad want me to buy real estate. Rental property. I know that's one sure way people make money around here, but I don't need any money. I can work, and I want to work for my money. I deposited that one check, but I haven't spent any of it. I've got, like, twenty-two thousand dollars in my checking account, from that check and from what I earned last summer. This is very frustrating to me."
       We were still in the kitchen, and I didn't even know why he came in. I was sure it wasn't to listen to me bitch and moan.
       "Let's go sit in the den. Grab some of that Tick Supreme stuff so we can both eat it," he said.
       I did.
       "Denny, give us some privacy, would you please, Bubba?" Kevin said.
       "Sure. I want to take a bath, anyway," Denny said. He left.
       "Kyle, first of all, we would be a very different family without you. I said a while ago that you're the central force in this family, and I meant that. You and Justin, and I think you know that. There hasn't been a boy in this house yet who hasn't had a major crush on you. You could have had your way with all of them, if you had wanted to. But, from what I can tell, you've been faithful to Tim. And I admire that more than I can say, Son."
       "I've been faithful to Tim," I said.
       "Kyle, you truly are a golden boy. You've got the looks, you've got the body, you've got the wit and personality, you've got the acting talent, you've got the artistic talent in your photography, and you've got the money. But a lot of guys have those things, in varying degrees. But you know what you've got that most of those other guys don't have?"
       I didn't say anything.
       "You've got character. You've got heart. I know what you did for Murray last Saturday. You made that boy so happy, it's off the scale. And you made two old ladies so happy, they won't ever forget that day. Murray told me all about it, Kyle. You can't hide the good you do. And you do it spontaneously. You wanted to go diving last Saturday. I know that. But you and Justin took Murray to Pensacola to see his grandmother, whom he worships, and all of you had a great day. Just be yourself, Kyle. Just go by your instincts, because they're right on target."
       Neither one of us said anything for a long time. I was thinking about what he had just said.
       "I think I want to go to bed," I said, finally.
       "Do you want me to tell Tim?"
       "No. And please don't tell anybody what we talked about," I said. "Even Rick."
       "I won't," he said.
       He kissed me on the forehead, and I went up to bed. I was asleep in two minutes.
       *****
       I put a good breakfast on the table the next morning. It was easy and fun to do. I knew I needed to eat to get ready for my day.
       "These biscuits and this sausage are first class. Where's the gravy?" Justin asked.
       "There is no gravy," I said. "I cooked the sausage in the oven, not in a frying pan."
       "Oh. It's still good, Bubba," he said.
       "Thanks," I said.
       I left the house at eight o'clock. It wouldn't take me but about twenty minutes to get to the college, unless there was a problem on the bridge. But just as sure as I waited until 8:40 to leave, I'd be snarled up in traffic for an hour. My first class was Introduction to Business, and it was pretty interesting. Believe it or not, the lecture, or whatever you might call it, that day was on mortgages. I listened hard to what the professor was saying, and I wrote down some good notes, too.
       After class, I hauled ass to the parking lot, and who do I meet but Skeeter McGhee.
       "Hey, Kyle. Let's go get some coffee. I didn't eat no breakfast this morning, and I'm hungry like a bear," he said.
       "Do y'all have a lot of waffles at home?" I asked. He's the one whose family owns all the Waffle places. Some are called Waffle House and some are called Waffle Shop. They own them all, though.
       "Shit, no. I hate those things. My daddy could eat his weight in 'em, but I can't stand 'em. Believe it or not, I don't like syrup. He drowns his with it, too," he said.
       "Does your brother like waffles?" I asked.
       "No, he doesn't like 'em, either. My daddy says my mama must have had an affair, and he ain't our real daddy," he said.
       "For real? Y'all both look just like him," I said.
       "No, not for real. That's just some of his bullshit. Come on. Let's go eat," he said.
       "Skeeter, I'd really like to, but I'm kind of in a rush right now. I'm cutting my ten o'clock class 'cause I got to get to the bank and then meet my daddy in Destin. We'll do it sometime soon, though, okay?"
       "Sure, I understand. Tell your daddy hello for me, okay?"
       "I sure will. See ya," I said.
       I wondered how he got that name Skeeter. I knew his real name was Howard, which is a perfectly good name, to me. One I like, even.
       "Was he pissed off over the Gators?" Skeeter yelled to me as I was walking away.
       "Yeah, he sure was," I yelled back.
       "Mine, too," he yelled. "Bye."
       I went to the bank, which was west of the bridge, of course. I figured with as much money as I was totting, I'd better go inside to make the deposit, instead of using the drive-thru.
       "I'd like to make a deposit into my savings account," I told the teller.
       "What's your account number?" she asked.
       I told her.
       "And the last four digits of your Social?"
       I told her that, too.
       "Cash or check?"
       "Check," I said.
       "And the amount?"
       "One hundred thousand dollars," I said.
       I wish you could have seen that face when I said that.
       "Just a moment, please," she said.
       She went into the back, which I guess was where the offices were. In a minute, this guy came out. I knew I was supposed to know him, but I couldn't come up with a name for that face to save my life. From the look on his face, I knew he knew he was supposed to know me, too.
       "Can I help you?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir. I just want to deposit some money into my savings account," I said. "I got the checks right here."
       "Sabrina tells me it's quite a large amount. We're going to have to verify that," he said.
       "Yes, sir, do whatever you have to do," I said.
       "What's the name?"
       "Kyle Goodson," I said.
       He looked at me funny.
       "For heaven's sake. I know you. You're Gene Goodson's son, aren't you. I'm Emery Cook," he said.
       "How you doing, Mr. Emery? I knew I knew you, but I couldn't come up with a name," I said.
       "Same here, son. Kyle, we're going to have to verify those checks. This is no reflection on you in the least, but if we don't have verification, and the federal auditors catch it, we'll have hell to pay. I hope you understand," he said.
       I sighed a heavy sigh.
       "How long will it take?" I asked.
       "I don't know. We have to fax the issuing bank photocopies of the checks, and they have to fax us back verification. It might be this afternoon before it comes through," he said.
       I was frustrated and pissed off and upset. I knew it was all over my face, too.
       "What's the matter, son?" he asked. He was a nice man, and he was being very kind, but I was in trouble.
       "Mr. Emery, I gave my word of honor I'd have this money in the bank by noon today. I've never broken my word before, but it looks like I'm fixing to," I said.
       I knew I had tears in my eyes, but I didn't give a shit. That meant too much to me.
       "Kyle, would you come on back to my office, please?" he said.
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       Once we were in there, he sat me down and gave me a tissue.
       "I'm sorry I got so worked up," I said.
       "Kyle, let's get a few things straight, okay?"
       "Okay," I said, but I knew I was going to get a lecture.
       "There are ten checks there, each for ten thousand dollars, and each dated the first of a month. Am I right?"
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       "I assume it's from a trust, and I know it's good money. Just as sure as I know there will be sunrise and sunset. So that ain't an issue," he said.
       I didn't say anything.
       "What is an issue, son, is why you held onto them this long without depositing them," he said.
       "Yes, sir, I know. It was sorriness on my part," I said. "My lawyer called me last night to chew me out about that, and I promised her I'd have them in the bank by noon today. That's why I'm upset."
       "You didn't break that promise, son. They're here. And they were here long before noon," he said. "But, Kyle, here's another issue. You got very upset when you thought you weren't going to keep your word of honor. Do you have any idea what that means to the business community of Emerald Beach?"
       "No, sir," I said. I didn't see why it meant a damn thing to them.
       "Kyle, it means the next generation of Goodsons is going to be just like the current generation and like the generation before. You're a man of your word, son, just like your daddy and your granddaddy. That's priceless to us. Don't you see it?"
       I hadn't thought about any of that. I just knew I had told Cherie on my honor that those checks would be deposited by noon, and "deposited," in my mind, meant "cleared."
       "I've never broken my honor before, though," I said.
       "And you still haven't. That's my point. You had no idea of the bureaucratic bullshit we'd have to go through to accept those check, but you got 'em here on time. You have nothing to be ashamed of, son. You did what you said you were going to do."
       I felt better when he said that, and I told him so.
       "You're not going to leave that money in savings, are you?" he asked.
       "For now I am. I'm on my way to Destin to see my daddy about it. I think I'm going to start investing in real estate," I said.
       He got a big grin.
       "That's what I wanted to hear. And I'm hoping you'll let me be your banker," he said.
       "I reckon. I'm going to need somebody, and you seem to know me and my family," I said. "I think I'm going to get Mr. Cliff to be my real estate agent."
       "Cliff Andrews?"
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       "None better, Kyle," he said. "Are you and Philip still friends?"
       "Best friends," I said.
       "See, Kyle, young guys like you and Philip and Ryan Pettis are the future of Emerald Beach. And those McGhee boys. I could name a lot of others, too, and I know you know every one of them. We're all Beach Rats, and that goes deep," he said.
       "It's funny you should mention McGhee. Skeeter McGhee tried to get me to have breakfast with him not thirty minutes ago," I said.
       "Where'd he get that name, you think?"
       "I don't know, but I'm going to find out," I said.
       "Are you feeling better, Kyle?"
       "Yes, sir, I am. Thank you," I said.
       "Thank you, son, for reinforcing my faith in the next generation. When you see your daddy, tell him hello for me, and tell him I could not have been any prouder of the Gators last Saturday," he said.
       "You must be a Seminole," I said.
       "Yes, sir. I bleed garnet and gold," he said.
       I laughed.
       *****
       I checked my watch when I got to my truck, and it was already 11:15. Shit. I was going to be late. I got on my cell and called my daddy.
       "Take your time, son. Did the professor keep you late?" he asked.
       "Something like that," I said. "And I don't know if I'll be held up by the construction on 98. Go ahead and eat lunch, Daddy."
       "I only get to have lunch with my boy every now and then. No way am I eating without you. Are you hungry?"
       "Yes, sir, I am," I said.
       "Kyle, I just got off the phone with Emery Cook at the bank. He said some very nice things about you, Son, and that made me very proud," he said.
       "What'd he say?" I asked.
       "None of your business. Just get your ass over here. Carefully," he said.
       "Yes, sir. I'm on my way. I just passed Phillips Inlet," I said.
       "Okay. I know where you are, then. The next thirty miles are a bitch, but I guess you know that," he said.
       "Yes, sir, I do."
       I could see it coming. Mr. Emery probably told him I hadn't deposited those checks, and he was probably going to crawl up my ass for being irresponsible. Shit.
       *****
       I got to the hotel at 11:45, and I went straight to his office.
       "Kyle?" his secretary said when I went in.
       "Yes, ma'am," I said.
       "Go right on in," she said.
       I knocked on the door, but I sort of opened it at the same time. He was playing Solitaire on his computer. He jumped up, hugged me big, and kissed me on the forehead. I was expecting a handshake, not that.
       "You're a fine-looking man, Kyle," he said.
       "I think you're queer," I said.
       He laughed his ass off, and I did, too.
       "Come on. I want you to meet some people," he said.
       "Dad, we've done this before. Remember?"
       "Oh, that's right. Let's go eat. Are you hungry?"
       "Daddy, I'm always hungry," I said.
       He just laughed.
       Once we were at a table, we scanned the menu. He ordered sweet tea, and I ordered half-and-half tea.
       "You don't like sweet tea?" he asked.
       "Yes, sir, I do, but you can't ever tell how sweet it's going to be. I can always add sugar if it ain't sweet enough, but you can't take out the sweet if they put too much sugar in the original," I said.
       "That's a good point. I'm going to start ordering half-and-half, too," he said.
       "Let me tell you something funny. You know the McGhees that have all those waffle places?"
       "Yeah."
       "Well, Skeeter McGhee told me this morning that he and his brother both hate waffles, and they hate syrup, too," I said.
       He laughed.
       "I'll bet Buzz isn't happy about that," he said.
       Buzz was the daddy. All of a sudden I remembered Skeeter's older brother was named Stinger McGhee. Buzz, Stinger, and Skeeter. There was a pattern there.
       "Daddy, where'd their names come from?" I asked.
       "I don't know, Son, but those ain't their real names. Buzz is Harold. I don't know what the boys' real names are. Are you and Skeeter friends?"
       "Yes, sir," I said.
       "Good. Those are good people, Kyle. You stay friends with Skeeter. Y'all are probably going to end up helping each other out, one of these days. Now let's talk about real estate. Cherie told me she talked to you about that," he said.
       "Yes, sir. She told me she wants me to buy some," I said.
       "I agree with her," he said. "Do you know how much money you have?"
       "Yes, sir. It's a little more than sixteen million," I said.
       "Wow! I didn't know it was that much. We gave Jeff four million when Clay died, and you got the rest of Clay's trust. Your mama and I felt that Clay would have wanted Jeff to be taken care of. Jeff and Tyler don't know about that, yet. It's revocable until he's twenty-five. We wanted to make sure Jeff was going to be the kind of man that was worthy of Clay, and he is. Or at least so far he is," he said.
       "Daddy, Jeff is Clay to me," I said.
       "I know. That's what I meant. Jeff is meeting all the things your mama and I want from him," he said. "But he still has to be twenty-five before he gets the money. And don't dare tell him about this, Kyle, you hear me?"
       "No, sir, I won't," I said.
       "I'm going to call Cliff Andrews after you leave here and tell him you want to invest in rental property. We've done business with them for three generations. Now it's going to be four. Cliff's grandfather and my grandfather developed North Lagoon, Son," he said.
       "Yes, sir, I know. You told me," I said. "I know Mr. Cliff won't screw me over."
       "He better not. I'll kick his ass, if he does," he said. "Besides, that man loves you, Son."
       "Do you realize you just switched to the grumble?" I asked.
       He laughed.
       "No, I didn't," he said. "I heard you grumble the other night at the restaurant when Jimmy and Johnny were giving you the password. Kyle, that grumble is a big part of our way of life here on the beach. You've got it down as good as me, Son. Did Emery use it today?"
       "No, sir, he didn't, and I didn't either. He knew who I was, though," I said.
       "I'm not surprised. Kyle, I know you and Tim need to go off for college and medical school, but that's going to be real hard on your mama and me. We're going to miss you, Son," he said.
       "Let's don't talk about that now, Daddy. Please. We're not going to be that far."
       "I know you won't be, Kyle. It's just the letting go, you know?"
       "Clay went off to Gainesville," I said.
       "I know, but we still had you at home," he said.
       "Let's don't go there, Daddy, okay?"
       "Okay. Did you enjoy your lunch?"
       "Yes, sir, it was excellent," I said.
       "Did you get enough?"
       "It was delicious, Daddy," I said.
       "Did you get enough?"
       "I might have to pick something up a little later this afternoon," I said
       "I didn't think you did. Catch McDonald's on the way home," he said.
       "Burger King," I said, and he laughed.
       Phew! I dodged the bullet on that one, for sure. I guess Mr. Emery didn't mention the checks.

Chapter 19

(Tim's Perspective)
       "Babe, I think I almost got into some trouble," Kyle said.
       We were in bed. We had just made love, and I was on the top of the world.
       "What did you do? Pass a school bus?"
       "Naw. It's about money," he said.
       I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.
       "You know I get a salary every month from that trust fund thing, right?"
       "Yeah, I know that," I said. "Kyle, is this going to be something heavy that requires a decision of me. Because if it does, I'm not interested in it right now. What you just did to me has to be savored and enjoyed. I can't think right now."
       He chuckled.
       "Was it really that good?"
       "Yes, it really was that good. What do you want?"
       "It can wait," he said.
       Kyle spooned up to my back, and I wiggled into him. He took my dick in his hand and held it gently. I drifted off to sleep thinking about him and how much I love him.
       We woke up the next morning in exactly the same position we had been in when we went to sleep.
       "Good morning. I love you," he said.
       What a great way to wake up.
       "Hmmm. I love you too. Put it in me," I said.
       "Huh?"
       "Fuck me, Kyle. Just like we are right now," I said.
       "Raise you leg a little," he said.
       That gave him a better angle. I was still lubed up from the night before, but he spit on his hand and wet his dick. He entered me smoothly and easily, and we were off to a new day.
       * * *
       "That was fun," he said, when we were in the shower together.
       "Yeah. What was it you wanted to tell me last night?" I asked.
       "I don't remember," he said.
       "Something about you almost getting into trouble," I said.
       "Oh, yeah. I hadn't deposited any of the checks I had gotten except one, and I promised Cherie I'd do it by noon yesterday. I got to the bank about 10:30 yesterday morning, and they told me they would have to verify the checks and that it might take until the afternoon to do that. That was it," he said.
       "How would that have gotten you into trouble?" I asked.
       "I gave my word of honor I'd do it by noon," he said.
       "So? You had the checks there by 10:30. You fulfilled your word," I said.
       "I know. The bank guy convinced me of that," he said.
       "I'm glad you didn't tell me that last night," I said.
       "Why?"
       "Because it's boring. It's a non-story," I said, teasing him.
       "Yeah? I'll bore your ass," he said.
       "Again?"
       He thought for a moment, and he laughed when he got the pun.
       "I have to go see Mr. Cliff this morning," he said.
       "Philip's dad? For what?"
       "I'm going to buy some rental property. I wish you could go with me," he said. "I thought my dad was going to go, but he said he wants me to do it on my own. That kind of sucks, don't you think?"
       "Your dad's trying to make you learn how to do stuff like that, Babe. He's teaching you, or at least forcing you to learn," I said.
       "Oh, so you're on his side, huh?"
       "I'm on your side, and so is he. Get a grip, Goodson," I said, grabbing his dick through his underwear.
       "Cut it out. You're going to get me all hot for you," he said.
       "Okay. I'll wait till tonight," I said.
       "You're a horny little sex monkey, ain't you?" he said.
       "Yeah, around you."
       "Come here," he said. He grabbed me in his arms and kissed me tenderly. "I love you so much."
       "I love you that much more. Come on. Let's go. I'm going to have a hard-on all day, thanks to you," I said.
       "There are worse things," he said.
       "Yeah, I know."
       "Good morning, everybody," Kyle said, all bright and cheerful when we went into the dining room.
       "Somebody must have been jump-started this morning," Justin said.
       "Might ‘a’ been, Mister Davis. Might ‘a’ been," Kyle said.
       "Denny, Murray, and Sean, y'all don't look at them. That is nothing but pure sexual lust, right there," Jus said.
       "That sounds pretty good to me," Sean said.
       "I wouldn't know," Murray said.
       "You will one of these days, Bubba. Did you weigh yourself this morning?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah," Murray said, smiling.
       "How many?"
       "Twenty-seven, as of today," he said.
       "Murray, I'm so damn proud of you, Bubba, I could bust," Kyle said.
       We all told Murray how great we thought that was, and he beamed.
       "Where are Kevin and Rick?" Kyle asked.
       "I dunno. Probably in there doing what y'all were doing," Justin said.
       "Y'all didn't do anything this morning?" Kyle asked.
       "That's none of your business," Justin said.
       "I thought we weren't supposed to ask about what goes on in private," Sean said.
       "We ain't. Kyle and I just break the rules sometimes," Justin said.
       "Yeah, but only when Kevin and Rick aren't around," Brian said.
       "Well, we ain't fools. Who's going to snitch? Huh? You?" Justin said, grinning and teasing Brian.
       I hoped Kyle and I came across to others as cute as Justin and Brian did.
       "I'll snitch," Sean said.
       "The fact of the matter is, Sean, the Davises and the Goodsons don't have any secrets from one another," Justin said.
       "What is this 'the Davises and the Goodsons' shit?" I asked. I actually thought of us that way, too, but I couldn't resist giving Justin a hard time.
       "Yeah. Why isn't it the Mathewses and the Murphys?" Brian said.
       "Pass me a banana, please," Kyle said.
       We were having cold cereal for breakfast that morning because Kyle and I had fooled around, and evidently Kevin and Rick had, too. Kyle usually made up the breakfast the night before, and either he or Rick cooked it. I know he had done that before we went to bed, but both he and Rick were otherwise occupied that morning. That happened occasionally, and on those days we had cereal.
       "Ain't you had enough banana this morning?" Justin asked him.
       "Shut up and pass me the fucking banana," Kyle said.
       "Oh, you want the fucking banana. Whose fucking banana do you want?" Justin asked.
       "Goddamn it!"
       "Okay, okay. Don't get your bowels in an uproar. Here," Justin said, handing him a banana for his cereal.
       "Thank you," Kyle said without any expression in his voice.
       Kevin and Rick came in just then. They poured themselves cups of coffee and sat down. They told everybody good morning, and we told them good morning back.
       "Cereal?" Rick asked with a devilish look on his face.
       "Yeah. Kyle was busy this morning," Justin said.
       "I see," Rick said, smirking.
       "The stuff's all ready in the refrigerator for tomorrow, if anybody makes it up in time to cook," Kyle said. "Listen, I need to tell y'all something. I'm fixing to buy some property. I met with my daddy about it yesterday, and today I'm going to see Mr. Cliff Andrews."
       "Property? Like what kind of property?" Rick asked.
       "Rental property. Houses or condos or something," Kyle said.
       "That's a good idea, Kyle. You know, Babe, that's something we ought to look into," Rick said.
       "I know. Why haven't we thought of that?" Kevin asked.
       "Because we're not financial wizards like Gene is," Rick said.
       "It wasn't his idea, Rick. It was Cherie's," Kyle said.
       "Well, it's a good one. How many properties are you going to buy?" Rick asked.
       "I don't know. I figured Mr. Cliff will know that," Kyle said.
       Denny, Murray, and Sean were puzzled, and it was all over their faces. They had no idea that Kyle had money.
       "You're just going to buy houses?" Sean asked.
       "Or condos. I don't know which," Kyle said.
       "How will you pay for them?" Murray asked.
       "You rent 'em out. Spring Break and summer, and Snow Birds in the winter," Kyle said. "That's what people do around here. Mr. Cliff's company will handle all the rental stuff for me. I don't have to do much of anything."
       "Maybe I ought to buy some," Sean said.
       "First of all, you ain't old enough, and, second, you got the down payment?" Justin asked.
       "What do you mean?" Sean asked.
       "When you buy property, you finance it with a mortgage, but you've got to have a down payment. You can't finance the whole amount. Usually, it's a minimum down payment of ten percent," Justin said. "He's got to hope he can rent the units for enough to meet his payments. Otherwise, that's money out of his pocket every month."
       "It's kind of a gamble, Sean. I'll be gambling that I can collect enough in rent to do just what Justin said," Kyle said. "Rental property is always a risk, but it's a lot safer risk than other kinds of investments, especially in a place like Emerald Beach."
       "Y'all are both taking a business course, right?" Rick asked.
       "Yes, sir," Justin and Kyle both said.
       "Are they going over this stuff in there?"
       "Yes, sir. You don't think a dumb hick like me would know this otherwise, do you?" Justin asked.
       "Nobody's born knowing this stuff, Jus," Kevin said. "I can see it now. You and Kyle are going to own this fucking beach one day."
       "That's the plan," Justin said. "We da man with da plan. And the thing is, we're going to hire your ass and Rick's ass to run it for us."
       "I ain't quitting my day job," Rick said.
       "Well, guys, I need to get going," Kyle said.
       All of us high school boys were already running late, but I knew we had learned more practical stuff at that breakfast table that morning than we probably were going to learn all day. We actually made it to school as the first bell was ringing, so we had ten minutes to get to class without being late.

(Cliff's Perspective)
       I've been an early riser all my life, and it's the rare day that six o'clock comes around that I don't have the paper, a cup of coffee, and a cigarette in front of me on the breakfast room table. I glanced at the headlines on the front page, and then I turned immediately to the obituaries. After that, I went straight to the real estate listings to make sure all of our ads made it into the paper that day. Only then did I read the sports.
       It suddenly dawned on me. I had an appointment with Kyle Goodson at eight o'clock. I smiled thinking about that boy. I had known Kyle all his life. Hell, I had known his daddy pretty much all my life, and Gene's daddy and grandpa had known my daddy pretty much all their lives, too. But Kyle and Philip had been best friends as long as I could remember, and I loved Kyle like my own flesh and blood. Kyle, and his brother Clay, were both high-spirited boys, and my Philip was an even match for them. Mischief was their middle name, but they had never been in trouble with the law, thank God.
       Gene had called me the day before to tell me Kyle was fixing to make an appointment with me. He had some money he wanted to invest in rental property. When Kyle called, I told him I'd see him first thing in the morning. I had my secretary reschedule a couple of appointments, but that's the way you did with old friends. You gave them first priority.
       Gene told me Kyle had about a hundred thousand he wanted to invest, and I figured we could get him into some nice properties for that amount of money. I called Emery Cook at the bank, and he and I talked about it. Kyle had already been in to see him that morning, and Emery knew I was going to be involved. I'd known Emery all my life, and he and I had a real good working relationship. I knew he would do everything he could to take care of Kyle.
       I got to the office at 7:30, like I always did. I always wanted to be the first one there to set an example, just like my daddy had. At eight o'clock, on the dot, Kyle appeared.
       "Hi, Mr. Cliff," he said, extending his hand.
       I shook his hand, and then I grabbed him in a big hug.
       "How you doing, Kyle? And how's Tim?"
       "We're fine. Just living out life, you know. I talked to Philip last weekend. I think he's having a good time in Tallahassee," Kyle said.
       "Too good, probably. He tells me he's going to all his classes, though, and the Sigma Chi's make the pledges do that. So we'll see what his first semester grades look like," I said.
       "You know they'll be good. Philip didn't get to be third in our class for nothing, you know," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, I know. I'm glad to see you and he are diving some, again. We sure do love those lobsters y'all catch," I said. "Would you like some coffee or juice or water or something?"
       "Yes, sir, I'd like some water, please," he said.
       I called my secretary, and she wheeled in a cart with refreshments. She had put a platter of pastries on the cart, and I saw him eye those.
       "Get you something to eat, son. Those things are good," I said.
       "I know," he said. He got two of them.
       "Kyle, we're going to get to business in a minute, but you and I have some personal business to take care of first," I said. "I know my son's your best friend, and I know he went to you the night I caught him and Ryan together. I lost my head that night, Kyle. That wasn't me, son. I have beat myself up about that so many times I can't even count 'em. I love Philip with all my heart, Kyle, and I love Ryan, too. I was crazy that night. I hope you'll believe that."
       "Mr. Cliff, I don't have to believe it. I know it. I know the kind of man you are, and I know how much Philip and Ryan love you and admire you. I'm not sure my daddy wouldn't have reacted the same way if he had caught me and Tim together," Kyle said.
       "The thing is, son, none of y'all act gay. How was I supposed to know? I mean, those two boys, Chad and Gage, who came over to the house on the night of y'all's prom, looked gay to me. I was fine with them. Philip and Ryan, and you and Tim, and Kevin and Rick. Y'all don't act anything like that," I said.
       "Mr. Cliff, I know all of that. If you had hurt Philip that night, I wouldn't be sitting here," he said. "If you're trying to apologize to me, you don't have to. If I remember that night correctly, you were on the phone to him not thirty minutes later apologizing to him and telling him you love him. Am I right?"
       "Yeah, you're right," I said.
       "That's water under the bridge. I don't mean to be pushy, but I've got a class this morning, and I really can't cut it again," he said.
       "I know you do, but I just felt like I had to get that off my chest, especially since we're going to be doing business together. Are we square?" I asked.
       "Absolutely," he said. "Well, actually, you're a square, but I'm sort of a triangle. A pink one, at that."
       It took me a second to get it, but, when I did, I laughed my ass off.
       * * *
       "Kyle, I've been giving your situation some thought. I'm a real estate broker, and my job is to get buyers and sellers together. I've already talked to Emery Cook at the bank, and he's willing to work with you any way he can. He's a good man, Kyle. He's one of us, you know, and he's done a whole lot of business with your family. Him and his daddy," I said.
       "Yes, sir, I know Mr. Emery," Kyle said.
       "What I want to suggest, Kyle, is two houses and three condos, for now. The down payments will eat up about sixty thousand dollars. That'll give you a cushion of forty thousand. You're going to probably need some of that to make payments until you can start renting them full out," I said. "You can get some winter rentals from Snow Birds, but that probably won't make the payments this first year. With Spring Break and summer rentals, I can pretty much guarantee you you'll break even, or even make a slight profit."
       "This is supposed to be an investment, like maybe over several years," Kyle said.
       "Absolutely, Kyle. That's exactly right. The properties I'm going to suggest are either Gulf front for the condos or no more than a block away from the Gulf for the houses. There are less expensive ones six blocks back from the Gulf, but these are the ones that are going to make the most money for you in the long run," he said. "And we need to look at some of these other developments around here, too. Sea Side, Watercolor, Carillon Beach, Destin. You name it," I said.
       "Mr. Cliff, did you know I get a hundred and twenty thousand dollars a year? Until I'm twenty-one. Then I get more," Kyle said.
       "No. I didn't know that. I thought this was it," I said.
       "Yes, sir. Please don't tell that, okay?"
       "I operate under an oath of confidentiality when it comes to finances. I won't even tell my wife," I said.
       "If this works out, I can see me buying more stuff in the future," he said.
       "I can, too, son, but let's just concentrate on this deal right now," I said. "Let me work some stuff up for you to look at. I hope Gene's going to want to look at it, too. He needs to, Kyle."
       "Mr. Cliff, I think he's going to make me do this on my own," he said.
       I grinned, knowing my friend Gene.
       "He wants you to learn how to do this, and I admire that. But don't you worry. Emery Cook and I will take good care of you, Kyle," I said. "You're just about family, you know it?"
       "Yes, sir, I know that. Philip's my brother, so . . . "
       "That makes me your second daddy, right?"
       "Yes, sir, I reckon it does," he said.
       I knew Kyle was only eighteen years old, soon to be nineteen, but he was already a man in my book. As soon as he left, I was going to get on the phone to Gene, and then to Emery. We were definitely going to celebrate that young man.
       "Mr. Cliff, I need to go so I can get to class. Thank you for seeing me, and thanks for the refreshments," he said.
       "You drop in here anytime you want to," I said.
       "I don't need a secret password?" he asked.
       "You must have gotten yours at the restaurant," I said.
       "Yes, sir, I did. I didn't know about that," he said.
       "I know. It's a secret. You can't ever tell, you hear? Not even Tim. My wife don't know it."
       "No, sir, I won't. Does Philip know it?" he asked.
       "Not yet, but he will the next time he's home and we go there," I said.
       "Cool," he said. "I need to run, but thanks for talking to me."
       He was one client I was definitely looking forward to doing business with.

(Sean's Perspective)
       I feel like such a whore sometimes. I'm dating Scott, right? I really like him a lot, and I think he's sexy and hot. He's a great kisser, and he's not afraid to try new stuff when it comes to sex. We haven't done it up the bunghole yet, but I'm sure he'd let me if I really wanted to.
       Anyway, I was at Scott's house, and his older cousin, who is a senior, came over. He asked us if we wanted to go to a party, and we said "sure." He's got a car, so it was no problem. He said he would bring us back to Scott's house whenever we wanted to leave.
       The party was at this girl Nicki's house. Scott and I didn't know her, but she was really cool and everything, and her parents weren't there. There were a couple of bottles of vodka and some other liquor out on the kitchen table for anyone who wanted a drink. Scott and I made vodka and tonics. There must have been thirty people there, and some guys were playing video games. That's what Scott wanted to do, but I wanted to go outside to have a cigarette. So, that's what I did.
       "Hey," this guy out there says. "What's up?"
       "Just chillin'," I said. "What's up with you?"
       "Nothing much. You mind if I have one of those?"
       I gave him a smoke.
       "What's your name?" he asked.
       "Sean. What's yours?"
       "James," he said. "Are you here by yourself?"
       "No. I came with my friend and his cousin. What about you?"
       "No. I came by myself. I was hoping a guy I'm interested in would be here, but he isn't," he said.
       "You're interested in a guy?" I asked.
       "Well, er, yeah. I'm gay," he said.
       "That's cool," I said.
       "Gay, and very horny," he said. He grinned at me. "What about yourself?"
       "Yeah, me, too," I said.
       "Gay? Horny? or Gay and horny?" he asked.
       "All of the above," I said. "Do you go to Beachside?"
       "Yeah. You?"
       I nodded.
       "You feel like taking a walk?"
       "I guess," I said.
       The house was on the corner of a block about two blocks up from the beach, so he and I took off walking, without going back inside. We walked down to the Gulf, and it was pretty down there. There wasn't a full moon, but there were a million stars. We sat down on the beach, and James pulled out a joint. He lit it, took a deep toke, and passed it to me. On instinct, I took a toke as well. I had smoked pot before, and he had some very good stuff.
       It didn't take us long to finish the joint, and, when we did, James put his arm around me. It felt good for him to do that. The next thing I knew, we were kissing. I had on a tee shirt, and he pulled it up over my head. He eased me down onto the sand, and we kissed some more, with lots of tongue. Of course my dick was going crazy, and his was, too. He worked his way from my lips to my chest, and he sucked my right nipple, which is the more sensitive one of the two.
       Without asking, he undid my belt and zipper. He got me to scoot up a little, and he pulled my shorts and underwear down. He ran his finger up and down the underside of my dick, and it felt fantastic.
       "You got a nice one," he said. "Very suckable, and your ass looks very fuckable. Have you got a condom?"
       "Not on me," I said.
       Without another word, he took my dick into his mouth. God, it felt good. He sucked it for a few minutes, and I was getting real close.
       He stopped sucking me and undid his own shorts. He got us into the sixty-nine position, and we went to town on each other. I hadn't gotten that far with Scott yet, so his was the first dick I ever had in my mouth. It was hotter doing that to him than I had thought it would be. Neither one of us lasted very long, and we shot in each other's mouths. I swallowed, and he did, too.
       "That was nice," he said. "Gimme a smoke."
       We each had another cigarette, got dressed, and went back to the party. The guy he was hoping to hook up with was there by then, so he went off to talk to him. I never even got his last name.
       I made myself another drink. Scott was still busy with the video game, so I started talking with a guy who was just hanging out by himself.
       "I saw you and James come in the back door. Did he take you on one of his famous walks?" the guy asked. His name was Cory. I'm sure I blushed, at least a little bit, but he didn't say anything.
       "Er, yeah. We went down to the beach to smoke some weed," I said.
       "What else did you smoke down there?" he asked, kind of smiling.
       I know I blushed big time on that one, and he chuckled.
       "It's all right, buddy. Half the gay guys in this place have been for a walk on the beach with James, and a good many of the straight guys have, too. James isn't a bad guy, but he'll fuck anything that has a dick," Cory said. "Do you have a boyfriend?"
       "No. Do you?" I asked, lying through my teeth.
       "Nope. See that guy James is cruising? That's Andy, and he and I dated until about a month ago. Nobody at present, but I'm looking," he said.
       This guy was a hunk and a half, and I was getting aroused again just talking to him. He noticed.
       "What's this thing?" he asked, touching my dick through my shorts. "I can take care of that for you. I've got one of my own. See?" He grabbed my hand and held it to his erection.
       He started rubbing my erection right there in the kitchen.
       "Let's go find a bedroom," he said.
       I followed him like a puppy following a little boy with treats. We weren't in the bedroom more than a couple of seconds when he started kissing me. I kissed him right back, too. We were afraid to get in the bed because we didn't even know whose room it was, but that didn't stop us from getting it on together on the floor.
       "Do you do anal?" he asked.
       "No," I said. "Not anal fucking, at least."
       "That's cool," he said.
       He got me on my back and raised my legs. He attacked my balls and my asshole with his tongue, and that was a whole new experience for me. After a while of doing that, he lubed up a finger with spit and stuck it in me. He got right on my prostate and started rubbing it. The feeling was so intense that I came in just a few seconds. He chuckled.
       "My turn," he said.
       I did to him, as best I could, what he had done to me. He, too, came quickly.
       After that, I was really drained.
       "What's your name again?" he asked, and I told him. "You're still in high school, aren't you?"
       "Er, yeah. You?"
       "No. I graduated last year. Would you like to hang out some, like maybe tomorrow?"
       "Sure," I said.
       I was spending the night at Scott's house, but I wasn't going to be there all day the next day. I gave him my cell number, and he wrote it down.
       "I'll give you a call tomorrow. About one o'clock?"
       "That sounds good," I said.
       "Well, we better get back out there. It was fun," he said.
       "Same here," I said.
       Back in the den, Scott's cousin was making out with some girl, and I could tell that his dick was hard. I sat next to Scott on the floor.
       "Having a good time?" he asked.
       "Yeah, what about you?"
       "He's kicking our asses on these games," some guy said. "Get him out of here so I can win."
       They laughed. The cousin came over to say he needed to leave. Since he was our ride, that meant we had to leave, too. The girl he was making out with was coming with us, so that meant Scott and I had to sit in the back seat.
       "No smooching back there, guys," the cousin said.
       The girl giggled, and Scott gave him a light pop on the back of his head.
       It was around midnight, and Scott's mom was already in bed. We snuck into the kitchen and made large drinks of rum and Coke. We took those to his room. We pulled the covers back on his bed and sat facing each other to talk.
       "Let's get comfortable," he said.
       He got up and stripped down to bare skin, and I did the same. My dick was a mess, and I had still-wet cum in my pubic hair.
       "I need to take a leak," I said, and I went into his bathroom without letting him see my front side. I pissed, but then I cleaned myself up, with soap and water, even.
       When I finally saw Scott's equipment, he was half hard.
       "I love being half hard," he said. "I think it feels better than a full hard-on."
       "Me, too," I said. My cock started growing.
       That night we sat side by side on the bed and played with each other's dick while we sipped our drinks. Eventually, I got on top of him and we did a simulated fuck by rubbing back and forth against each other until we came. We took a chance and went outside to smoke, naked, and then we went to bed. We slept cuddled together.
       * * *
       The next day Kyle came to pick me up when I called. He asked me if I had had fun at Scott's house, and I told him I had. I didn't say anything about drinking, smoking pot, or having sex with two strangers, though.
       Cory called around one o'clock, and I gave him directions to the house. I waited out front for him, and I didn't take him in to introduce him to the others. Kyle probably knew him, if Cory had gone to Beachside.
       "What do you feel like doing?" he asked.
       "Surprise me," I said.
       There are two distinct parts of the beach, the Francis Drive area and the Front Beach Road area, or “The Strip," as it is called. We live near the Francis Drive area, and he took us to the Front Beach Road area. There are plenty of beach houses and condos in both places, and he took us to a beach cottage. It belongs to his parents, and he had keys to it.
       "We rent this out, but nobody's staying here now. I thought you and I might want a little privacy," he said.
       He made us bourbon and coke drinks, and we got comfortable next to each other on the sofa. He noticed the pack of cigarettes in my shirt pocket, and he said it was okay to smoke, if I wanted to.
       "Unless you'd rather smoke something else," he said.
       "Sure," I said.
       He had a little metal box that had five or six joints in it, and he offered one to me. I had only smoked a whole joint a few times before. Usually I shared.
       We hung out for a while, drinking and smoking, and then the sex started. We had pretty much of a repeat of the night before, only we did it to each other three times.
       "What are you doing tonight?" he asked.
       "I've got to do something with my family. We go to church on Saturday night, and then we go out to eat," I said.
       I liked him okay, but I wasn't ready to start dating him.
       "What about tomorrow?" he asked.
       "I've got a date. We're supposed to go to Dune Island. Have you ever been there?" I lied about that.
       "Lots of times. It's fun to play naked on the beach over there," he said. "What time do you have to be home?"
       "Five o'clock. I've got to clean up for church and all," I said. "Church starts at six."
       He took me home when it was time.
       * * *
       That weekend was my introduction to the high school/college gay community of Emerald Beach. I learned that there are a bunch of out gay guys, both at my high school and at the other four high schools in town. I know that Kyle, Tim, Justin, and Brian are committed to their partners, but I really have the feeling they don't know what they’re missing. I admire them greatly for that, but that just isn't my style. I love sex, and I’m not ashamed of that. I got my share of it after that weekend, too, a couple of times, even, at school.
       Kyle's fraternity had a party at our house one Saturday night. It was guys and girls, and the beer flowed freely from two kegs. Kevin and Rick were the Key Masters for that, meaning they took the guys' car keys and made them spend the night if they were drunk when it was time to leave. Evidently, that was pretty much the way the frat did it at all their parties, and every time Kyle went to a frat party, Tim went with him to drive home. They all knew Kyle and Tim were a couple, and absolutely nobody had a problem with that.
       That frat party was a lot of fun. Denny and Murray came outside for a little while, but they only stayed long enough to eat. They had some pretty good food, including oysters on the half shell, which everybody seemed to love, grilled chicken, and grilled smoked sausage. There were other things, too, like potato salad, green salad, pasta salad, and corn on the cob. It was a good meal.
       I struck up a conversation with the president of the fraternity.
       "My name is Skeeter McGhee. You're Kyle's little brother, ain't you?"
       "That's right. Sean Kelly," I said.
       We shook hands.
       "Don't let the name Skeeter scare you. I don't bite. At least not guys," he said.
       I liked him instantly.
       "Skeeters suck blood, though, don't they?" I said.
       "That's a loaded one, right there," he said.
       Skeeter lit up a cigarette and offered me his pack. I took one.
       "What do you suck?" I asked.
       "Tits and pussies, mostly, and, of course, these damn things," he said, holding up his cigarette. "What about you?"
       "You name it, I'll suck it," I said.
       "For real?"
       "Yeah, for real," I said.
       "Where have you been all my life?" he asked.
       "Why? You got something that needs sucking?"
       "You goddamn right, I do. You see that bitch over there? The one in the pink shorts? She wouldn't put my cock in her fucking mouth to save my life. Been dating her two years, too," he said.
       "Have you ever had a blowjob?" I asked.
       "No. Never have," he said.
       "Would you like one?" I asked.
       "What do you think? You name a guy on this fucking earth that don't want a blowjob, and that sum bitch is a fucking liar," he said.
       "Let's go," I said.
       "I ain't believing my luck," he said.
       He followed me up to my room, and I took care of Skeeter McGhee. He actually wanted to touch my hard-on, and I let him. In fact, he jerked me off, and he did a damn good job of it, too.
       "I think I'm going queer," he said. "That was un-fucking-believable, man. Thank you, Shane."
       "Sean, not Shane," I said.
       "Oh, sorry, man," he said.
       "That's okay. Very common mistake," I said.
       "I'm the president of this fucking fraternity, and I want your ass at every party from now on, you hear me?"
       I laughed.
       "You just want more blowjobs," I said.
       "Naw, man. I just enjoy your company, that's all. Hey. Do you like waffles? Of course, they have other things there, too," he said.
       "Yeah, I do."
       He pulled out his wallet and gave me two tickets for free meals at any waffle place in Emerald Beach.
       "Those are good for any meal in the store. Even the steak dinners, which are pretty damn good, I think.”
       "Thanks, but you don't have to pay me," I said.
       "I ain't paying you. I'm giving you them 'cause you're my friend, that's all," he said. "I ain't ever paid for sex in my life, especially not to Kyle's brother. That mother fucker would whip my ass if he thought I was paying his brother for sex, and he could do it, too. Especially if he teamed up with that big ole blond country boy. Who is he, anyway?"
       "His name is Justin Davis, and he's one of our brothers, too. He and Kyle are best friends."
       "Boyfriends?" Skeeter asked.
       "No, just friends."
       "I was talking to him a little while ago. He's as nice as he can be, and funny as hell, too," he said.
       "Oh, yeah. Justin's good," I said.
       "Well, listen, buddy, I need to go find my girlfriend. She's probably off giving one of my fraternity brothers a blowjob right now. Thanks, again," Skeeter said.
       When we got back to the party, half the people, girls and guys, were naked and in the pool.
       "Martha, what the hell are you doing?" Skeeter called out to a girl.
       "I'm swimming. What does it look like I'm doing," the girl said.
       "Well, at least she ain't giving blowjobs," Skeeter said to me under his breath. "I'm coming in too, girl." He stripped down and dove in.
       Skeeter was my first straight boy, and there didn't seem to be any difference between him and the gay boys I had been with. I made it with two more boys that night, both gay. I sucked off one of them, and the other one sucked me off. I was such a slut, but I was loving it.

Chapter 20

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I finally got around to checking out St. Augustine for what there is to do there. That was all I wanted to do, but would they let me? No! I had all these appointments and crap. Lawyers, real estate brokers, bankers. Shit. Fortunately they were people I knew and cared about, for the most part. My lawyer? Cherie? All I wanted to talk about with her was our baby. Mr. Cliff? The real estate guy? All I really wanted to talk to him about was his son Philip. Mr. Emery? The banker? I didn't know him all that good, so I didn't have anything I wanted to talk to him about. He had a couple of daughters that I knew, but they were a few years younger than me, and I wasn't interested in them, anyway.
       "I've got the goods on St. Augustine, finally," I said to my family a few days later.
       "It's about fucking time," Justin said.
       "Justin, I'm tired. Don't make me have to get up and beat your face in, Bubba. Okay?" I said.
       "Like you could," he said.
       He cackled like a banshee.
       "I guess there will be eight of us on this trip, since we're leaving Justin home. Here are the goods," I said.
       I gave everybody except Justin a packet of stuff I had printed off the Internet.
       "Where's mine?" he asked.
       "You ain't going, so you ain't getting one," I said.
       "Kyle, give me the fucking papers," he said.
       I handed him a packet, grinning.
       "I hate you, you prick," Justin said, and he and I laughed.
       "Wow! There's a lot of good stuff here," Brian said. "Kyle, I'll bet you want to go to that Top Gun place."
       "Without a doubt, Bubba," I said. "I have always thought of myself as Tom Cruise."
       "You're more masculine than he is," Brian said.
       "What the hell you talking about, Little Buddy?"
       "Look on page sixteen. There's a place where you can go and fly World War II airplanes. Fighter planes," Brian said.
       "Fly airplanes? Are you shitting me, Kyle?” Justin asked.
       "No, he's not, Buddy. Read it. You go up with a pilot, and you take over the controls for a little while. You fly the plane," Brian said. "It's a flying lesson."
       "I definitely want to do that. For sure," Justin said.
       "I figured you would. I want to do it, too. It's a half hour. They got another ride called aerobatics, and the plane does stunts, like turning over, and shit like that. Read the paper," I said.
       "Oh, man, I want to do that, too," Justin said. "You see that in movies. You can really do that?"
       "That's what the man says on the Web site," I said.
       "Shit, I can't wait," Justin said.
       "I know. Me, either. When I read about that, I got so excited I got a hard-on," I said.
       "Yeah, you would," Justin said, mocking me.
       "Like you ain't got one right now, over the same damn thing," I said. "I can see it, Justin. Small as it is, it ain't invisible, you know?"
       "Kevin, make him shut up," Justin said.
       "Y'all both shut up," Rick said. "This is so typical of you two. All you can think about is sex. For those of you who don't have hard-ons over flying some damn old planes, Kyle has done a very good job of putting this packet together for us. There is more history of our state in St. Augustine than just about anywhere, except maybe in Pensacola. I think maybe that ought to be our next trip, after St. Augustine."
       "I can go to Pcola," Murray said.
       "You're going back there soon," Justin said. "And I'm taking you, if this asshole won't. So we can take the grandmas out. I'm stealing Kyle's car to do it, too."
       "What do you mean, if I ain't taking him? You're talking like it was your idea to go in the first place. It was mine. You didn't even want to go at first," I said.
       "Kyle, shut the fuck up, okay? I'll tell you when it's safe for you to talk again," Justin said.
       "Murray, taking you to Pensacola was my idea, but I wouldn't have done it if Justin hadn't been willing to go with us. Tell you the truth, I think he's hot for Nana. You best tell her to watch him close, you hear." I said.
       Ole Murray was getting a kick and a half out of being the center of so much attention. That was all it took to make that boy feel special, and that didn't cost me and Justin nothing to do that.
       "Nana's my girlfriend. I ain't ashamed of it," Justin said. "Miss Rose is your girlfriend. She's half deaf, and she needs your big mouth to even hear the conversation. I can't talk as loud as you."
       "Justin. Listen to yourself. You're just about shouting right now," I said.
       "I have to talk loud to get through your thick skull," he said. "Go make us something to eat."
       "What do you want?" I asked.
       "I don't know. Be creative, but nothing you personally caught or nothing that's still alive," Justin said.
       I was hungry, too, but I didn't know what I wanted, either. We still had candy in the freezer that Kevin and Rick had gotten from vendors for Easter. I dug around until I found a couple of boxes of that stuff. I knew it was frozen, but they could suck on it until it melted in their mouths. It would be good practice for the younger ones.
       That seemed to be just what everybody wanted. Justin popped one into his mouth.
       "Damn, this thing's hard as a rock," he said.
       "It's frozen, Bubba. Let it melt in your mouth," I said.
       "That's going to take forever," he said.
       "You want me to pop 'em in the microwave?" I asked.
       "No. That'll make a mess out of 'em. They'll thaw pretty quick," Rick said. "Just look at 'em longingly and pick out the ones you want."
       "I've never seen people have as much fun over nothing as you guys do," Sean said. "I can't believe you guys."
       "Let's get back to the trip," Brian said. "I didn't realize they had this much in St. Augustine. This is amazing."
       "I know," Tim said. "Brian, I'm sorry I never studied Florida history, like you did. There's a lot more here than there was in Houston."
       "Is anyone surprised?" Kevin asked.
       "You are mighty down on Houston, ain't you?" Justin said.
       "If the shoe fits, . . . " Kevin said.
       "Have you guys ever been to Virginia? There are a whole lot of things to see there," Sean said.
       "We went to Washington last year for Spring Break, and we took a bus trip to Mt. Vernon. That's about all, though," Brian said.
       "Oh, there's so much more than that, Bri. That's a neat place, but it doesn't hold a candle to Monticello or Williamsburg or Jamestown or Richmond," Sean said. "I'd love for us to go on a trip to Virginia. I could guide that tour."
       "Christmas or Spring Break? What do you think, guys?" Rick asked.
       "Christmas!? Are you out of your mind? We've got a double fucking wedding the day after Christmas!" I said. I swear, I didn't know what was wrong with Rick.
       "That's right, Kyle. December 26th. Do you go back to school on the 27th?" Rick asked.
       "No, of course not, but . . . "
       "I don't plan to do any cleaning up on the twenty-seventh. Do you?" Rick said.
       Hmmm. I hadn't thought of that. My parents always went to New York the day after Christmas. This year it would have to be two days after Christmas. There wasn't any reason we couldn't go on a trip, too.
       "Now that you put it that way, no, I ain't cleaning up," I said. "We could go to Virginia then. Plus, that would give Sean a chance to see his parents during the holidays. That's a damn good idea."
       "They won't be there then," Sean said.
       "Do you talk to your parents regularly, Sean?" Kevin asked.
       "No, I've called a couple of times and left messages to say I'm doing okay, but I haven't talked to them. I've gotten a couple of emails from my mom, but they weren't really personal. They were sent to her mailing list to give people her schedule. I'm not really part of their lives anymore," Sean said.
       Good God almighty! I thought. He didn't have anybody but us. I had heard from Skeeter and some other guys that he was a total slut. At first I didn't want to believe it, but gradually there were too many guys with too many stories for me not to know it was true. He had no idea how many people I knew and how willing they were to tell me what he had done with them. I hadn't yet heard any stories about ass fucking, but I figured it was just a matter of time before those stories started rolling in. You can't be as out and as well known as I am in Emerald Beach and not hear stuff about one of my brothers. I prayed to God he would be careful when he started ass fucking. That boy was looking for love, or something, all over the place, and there were a hell of a lot of boys in Emerald Beach, gay and straight, who would take advantage of him.
       I was lucky, I guess. I fell totally and completely in love with Tim at an early age, but that was exactly what I wanted. I know my brother fooled around with a few guys before he found Jeff, but Jeff was really what Clay wanted. He wanted a life mate, and he found him. I had me my life mate, and that's all I ever wanted. Me and Clay had parents that loved us, no matter what. And they loved our guys, too. Hell, my parents wanted to pay for the whole damn thing for Jeff and them to get married. I know everybody's parents can't pay for big weddings and such, but they ought to want to, even if they can't afford to. Shit. I hated that for Sean.
       "Are you okay, Kyle?" Kevin asked.
       "I just need to get a little air right now," I said. "Justin, would you give me a cigarette, please?"
       He whipped his pack out of his shirt pocket.
       "Take two," he said. "You probably need a lighter, too. Take this one."
       I tucked one cigarette behind my ear, and I went outside with the other one still in my hand. I really didn't feel like smoking all that much, but I needed to be out of that room right then. I lit up on the patio, and I coughed like a twelve-year-old smoking his first one. It had been awhile. I walked down to the dock.
       I was just standing there thinking, and I heard somebody come up behind me. I could tell he was smoking, and I knew it had to be either Kevin or Justin.
       "You're upset about Sean, aren't you?" It was Kevin.
       "Yes. I'm very upset about Sean," I said. "He doesn't have anybody."
       "He has us," Kevin said.
       "But I don't think we're enough, Kevin. He desperately needs more," I said.
       "Most boys here don't have any more than that, though," he said.
       "Yes, they do," I said.
       "Who does Brian have?" Kevin asked.
       "Brian!? Brian!? Brian has Justin. He has me and Tim. He has you and Rick. He has your parents, who absolutely love his ass. Your mom and your dad both do. He has Cherie and Craig. He has my parents. He has Mr. Mack, and Trixie and Krewe," I said.
       "Okay, he's not a good example. Who does Murray have? His Nana?"
       "Yes! And me and Justin. And Miss Rose. And you and Rick. He's got people," I said.
       "Denny? He doesn't have anybody," Kevin said.
       "Well, he's got us, of course, but he's got his books. His debate. I don't think Denny needs people the way Sean does or the rest of us do. He broke up with Brady because he thought Brady was immature. Denny's going to be okay. That's my gut feeling. Denny has a ton of friends at school, probably more than the rest of us put together. Did you even know that? Plus, he and Murray are very good friends. And Chip Rooney. They're best friends," I said.
       "Sean has Scott," Kevin said. "They're boyfriends, aren't they?"
       "Kevin, I . . . " Then I stopped.
       "You know stuff you can't tell me, right?" Kevin said.
       "Right," I said. "I want to, but I can't. I can tell you this, though. Sean is the neediest one of all of us right now. Just know that. And he's acting it out in ways that could get him hurt."
       "How could it get him hurt? You have to tell me that, Kyle. You can't keep it confidential if somebody might get hurt. That's wrong, man," Kevin said.
       I thought for a few minutes. I trusted Kevin more than just about anybody in the world, and I knew that all he wanted to do was help Sean. That's what I wanted to do, too.
       "I won't tell you details, but he's having a lot of sex, and not just with Scott. Sooner or later, he's going to get hurt. I don't know if it will be physical, but it might be," I said. "That's all I feel like I can say, Kevin."
       He heaved a deep sigh. He took the cigarette from behind my ear and lit it up. I didn't want it, anyway.
       "What can Rick and I do, Kyle? What can we all do?" he asked.
       "I've thought about that a lot, but I really don't know. Scott stays behind him like a dog behind a bitch in heat, but I doubt that Scott knows what Sean's doing. I know Scottie, and I know he's a very good boy. I know Sean's a good boy, too, at heart, but Sean's hurting so deep he can't even feel it," I said.
       "Well, if you figure anything out, you let me or Rick know immediately, you hear?"
       "I will. I've already told you more of Sean's business than I probably should have," I said.
       "What you told me tonight was in Sean's best interest, Kyle. You didn't break any confidences, and I don't ever want you to do that. But what you said about him hurting so deep he can't even feel it is probably true, Bubba."
       We were both quiet for a long time, thinking about Sean.
       "They're probably wondering what we're talking about out here," Kevin said.
       "I know. Rick and Justin are probably about out of their skins with curiosity. Tim and Brian, too," I said. "I guess we better get back in."
       "Yeah," he said.
       As it turned out, nobody but Rick was even in the den when we went back inside.
       "Kyle, I've been reading this handout you gave us, and this is going to be an awesome trip," Rick said.
       "I know. It is, isn't it? I can't wait to get up in those planes," I said.
       "How exactly does that work? Don't you need a license to fly a plane?" he asked.
       "Yeah, you do, but you just go up for a lesson. The pilot is licensed, maybe even as an instructor. He takes off, you fly it for a little while with him telling you what to do, and then he lands it. They're old planes, which is probably all the company could afford. They do this all around the country at different times of the year. I didn't print that part. But they're in St. Augustine year round. It's unbelievable, and I can't wait," I said.
       "I'm doing it," Rick said. "Are you doing it?"
       "I'll see," Kevin said.
       "You're not going to do it, and you know it. You pussy," Rick said, laughing at Kevin.
       "I said I'll see," Kevin said emphatically.
       "Yeah, we'll see you on the ground," Rick said.
       "Babe, Kyle and I were talking about Sean outside," Kevin said.
       "Do you want me to leave?" I asked.
       "No, I want you to stay," Kevin said. "Tell Rick what you told me."
       "About what?" I asked.
       "About Sean and sex," Kevin said.
       "Rick, I can't tell you the number of people who have talked to me about Sean and about the fact that he's having sex with anybody and everybody who's willing, gay and straight. I'm worried he's going to get hurt. In fact, I think he's hurting real bad inside right now," I said.
       "Yeah, you really get a sense of that, don't you?" Rick said. "What can we do about it? Have you talked to him about it?"
       "Not yet," I said. "See, I feel like I'm over a barrel here. A lot of what I know, I know in confidence, but I'll talk to him as soon as it seems right. Doesn't he have a birthday this month?"
       "I can't remember," Kevin said. "Let me check his birth certificate."
       Kevin went into the study, which is where they keep their files. He came back in a few minutes with this real dark look on his face.
       "We missed it. It was last week. October 7th," Kevin said. "He turned sixteen."
       "Oh, fuck!" Rick said. "Why didn't he say something? And why didn't his fucking parents call or send a card or something? This is making me depressed."
       We just all kind of sat there, wanting to do something but not knowing what to do. Finally, I told them good night and went to bed.

(Denny's Perspective)
       I was really looking forward to the trip to St. Augustine. We had studied about it in Florida history in the seventh grade, and I had read all the Internet material that Kyle had given us. Ordinarily, I would have resented losing four and a half days that I could have spent working on debate, but my new partner was really sharp, and we had our act together. We had done well at the first tournament earlier in the month, and he encouraged me to go.
       I came out to him right away because I didn't want him hearing rumors about me and not knowing for sure. Like everybody else at Beachside who knew about me, he was fine with it. He told me he thought he was basically straight but he wasn't totally positive yet. We really didn't talk about it all that much, and we certainly didn't do anything with each other.
       We had a half day on the Wednesday of that week, and we left right at noon. Kyle fixed sandwiches for us to eat in the car. It was crowded, but it was fun laughing and joking with the other guys. I read for a little while, but it wasn't long before I joined in the fun, too.
       We made much better time than we thought we would, mainly because Kyle and Justin did all the driving. Those two boys had lead in their feet, I think. We got to our hotel around six o'clock Central Time, but, of course, St. Augustine is in Eastern. We ate at the hotel and then went to walk around a little bit in the old downtown part of the city. There wasn't much to do, except window shopping and such.
       When we got back to the hotel, Kevin and Rick told us to meet the next morning at eight o'clock in the restaurant. They said goodnight and went to their room. The seven boys all ended up in Kyle's room. There were two beds in each room, so we all sat on the beds.
       "Did you bring us a bottle of cheer?" Justin asked.
       "That's my job, ain't it?" Kyle said.
       He pulled a new bottle of whiskey out of his bag. Tim and Brian went to get ice and cokes for us, and I bought some snacks from the vending machine that was on our floor, with money Kyle gave me. We put all that stuff next to the whiskey on a table. Kyle made whiskey drinks for Justin and himself, and Tim handed out cokes to the rest of us.
       Sean got up and poured himself a drink of whiskey. Everybody was sort of surprised that he did that, and Justin started to say something to him about it. Kyle shushed him, though. We turned on the TV set and found MTV, and for once they were playing music videos. That was pretty bad, but at least it was better than a wretched baseball game or football game.
       "I'm going to get comfortable," Kyle said.
       He was wearing his cowboy boots that he seemed to love so much, and his feet really smelled bad when he took them off.
       "Go wash your feet," Tim said.
       "I thought you liked the way I smell," Kyle said, teasing him.
       "I do, but I don't like nasty, stinky feet," Tim replied.
       Kyle did as Tim asked, and he came back into the bedroom in just his underwear. That got the others started, and they all stripped down to their briefs. I stayed dressed, since I would have to go to my room later, and Murray did, too. Sean didn't, though.
       "Anybody up for getting high?" Sean asked.
       Kyle had the remote in his hand, and he hit the mute button.
       "What did you say?" Kyle asked.
       "I asked if anybody wanted to get high," Sean said.
       "I know you smoke with your buddies, Sean, and I can't do anything about that. But don't tell me you brought shit on this trip," Kyle said. I had never seen him that serious.
       Nobody moved.
       "I was just teasing, Kyle, for Christ sake. Lighten up, man. I'm not holding," he said.
       "You better not be, and if you are, it better be gone before you go to bed tonight, you hear?"
       "Jesus! Who made you the fucking boss?" Sean said low, sort of under his breath.
       Kyle ignored what he said, and he turned the sound back on. I thought Tim was the luckiest guy in the world to have him, and I got an erection just thinking about what sex with Kyle must be like.
       "Are we going to go on the Sheriff's Ghost Tour tomorrow night?" Brian asked.
       "We ought to wait until Friday night. They do one at midnight on Fridays and Saturdays," Tim said.
       "It's going to be so scary," Kyle said in what I guess you would call a fake "ghost voice." "All the ghosts are gonna be laying in wait for you, Timmy-Too-Too."
       Tim laughed.
       "Timmy-Too-Too? Is that what you call him?" Justin asked. "I ain't never heard you say that before."
       "No, I don't call him that. I just made it up," Kyle said.
       "He's your little sex monkey, ain't he?" Justin asked. He started rubbing the monkey tattoo on Kyle's stomach.
       "Davis, you've got exactly thirty minutes to stop what you're doing," Kyle said.
       We all laughed, but Justin didn't stop.
       "Cut it out," Kyle said.
       "Why? Am I making Little Kyle come to life? Huh, Bubba?"
       "Yeah, you are. Cut it out. Brian, make him stop it," Kyle said.
       Justin stopped what he was doing.
       "Damn. I thought maybe we were getting ready to have a sex show," Sean said.
       "Never happen, Bubba," Justin said.
       "You guys want each other, though. I know you must," Sean said.
       "Whether we do or whether we don't doesn't matter, Sean. Brian is his partner, and Tim is mine," Kyle said. Kyle was already pissed off at Sean from earlier, and Sean was just making it worse.
       "Don't you guys ever get tired of sex with the same guy, over and over again?" Sean asked.
       "No, as a matter of fact, we don't," Justin said. "Kyle and I are both in love with our guys. Sean, I hope and pray to God that one day you fall in love, Bubba. If and when you do, you'll find out that sex is totally different with him than it is with some guy whose name you don't even know. Take it from one who knows."
       "How would you know? How many guys have you had sex with? One, right?" Sean said.
       "I don't even know how many," Justin said. "A lot, though."
       "Yeah, right. It doesn't count on the Internet," Sean said.
       "I've never had sex on the Internet. I don't even know how to do it," Jus said.
       "I find that hard to believe," Sean said.
       "Listen, if he says he hasn't had sex on the fucking Internet, believe him, man. What is it to you?" Kyle said.
       "It's nothing to me, Kyle. Why are you getting on my case all the time, man?" Sean asked.
       "Sean, you get to me sometimes, man. You don't know a thing in the world about Justin and what he's been through. It took guts to do what you did to get here, and I admire you for that. But you ain't the only one here with guts, Bubba," Kyle said. "Just don't mess with my boys."
       "Who are your boys? Huh?"
       "Everybody in this fucking room, that's who. Including you," Kyle said. They were sort of shouting at each other.
       "Sometimes I wish I hadn't come here," Sean said. "I feel like I don't belong."
       "How can that be, Sean? You're included in everything," Kyle said.
       "Okay. Here's an example. A little while ago you made drinks for you and Justin, but Tim just handed me a coke. I wanted a real drink," he said.
       "And you got one, didn't you?" Justin said. "Tim gave you a coke because you're fifteen years old. We don't care if you have a drink."
       "That was my fault," Tim said. "Usually, just Kyle, Justin, and Kevin, if he's here, have whiskey drinks. I just assumed you'd have a coke like the rest of us. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and I'm sorry if I did."
       "Give us some more examples," Kyle said.
       "Naw, forget it," Sean said. "Besides, I'm sixteen now, not fifteen. My birthday was October 7th."
       Kyle got up from the bed he was sitting on and walked over to Sean. Sean flinched, as if he expected Kyle to hit him or something. Kyle sat down next to him and put his arm around Sean.
       "Bubba, if I have done anything to make you unhappy or to feel unwelcome, I want to apologize right now in front of everybody for doing that. We all stay real busy all the time at home. That's why we go on trips like this one. To have more family time together. I think this might even be the first time just the seven of us have been in a room together like this. We need to have more bull sessions like this," Kyle said.
       "It's not you, Kyle. It's me," Sean said. "I'm so damn screwed up. I hate my fucking parents, and I know they don't love me. I see Scott and his mom, and she loves him so much. She takes care of him, too, in so many ways. I don't know."
       "I think most of us would like to have a mom who loves us and takes care of us," I said. "Really, the only one of us who has a real mom is Kyle. Justin doesn't have a mom, and Brian's mom put him out and signed him over to the state. Tim has a step-mom, but he doesn't even live with her. My mom's in prison, and she wasn't much of a mom before she went in. Murray has his grandmother, but she's not able to take care of him anymore."
       "Yeah, but at least she did when she could, didn't she, Murray?" Sean said.
       "Yeah, she did, and that's why I miss her so bad. She loves me, and I love her," Murray said.
       "I can't be your mom, Sean, but I can be a much better big brother than I have been," Kyle said.
       "I'm sorry I'm such a jerk, guys," Sean said. "I don't want to be. I want people to like me."
       "Why didn't you tell us about your birthday?" Kyle asked.
       "Would it have mattered?" Sean asked.
       "Hell, yes, it would have mattered, and there would have been a party for you, too. Turning sixteen's a big deal, Bubba. Man, that tears me up that nobody even told you Happy Birthday," Kyle said. "And you didn't even hear from your parents."
       "Well, they've been late with it before. I was supposed to get a car for my sixteenth birthday, so maybe they'll get around to doing something when their schedules aren't quite so horrendous," Sean said.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       St. Augustine turned out to be a wonderland. The first day we did quite a few testosterone-heavy activities, like visiting two forts. The first one was the Castillo de San Marcos National Monument, which was a gigantic fort that had been built between 1672 and 1695. It was the oldest European fort in North America, and it was enormous and, apparently, very well preserved. The National Park Service staffed it, so there was a great tour by a very knowledgeable ranger. I love our National Parks. I think they are on the top ten list of the best things about America.
       The other fort we went to was much smaller. Much smaller. It was called Fort Matanzas National Monument, built in the 1740's. The word Matanzas is Spanish for "massacre," and it's called that for Matanzas Bay, which was the site of the massacre of 250 French Huguenots, or Protestants, in 1565, by the Catholic Spanish. I was thoroughly Catholic and loved my religion, but some of the shit Catholics did in the name of the Catholic Church over the centuries was just horrible.
       "How could the Catholics kill those people for not wanting to be Catholic?" Justin asked. "To me, that's a serious crime and a deadly sin."
       "It is to all of us, Bubba. There's no excusing that," I said.
       "I'm taking lessons right now to become a Catholic, but I don't know about this," Justin said.
       "If you don't join, you're next," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, don't joke about this, man. Do you think what they did was okay?" Jus asked.
       "Hell, no, I don't think it was okay. I think they must have thought it was okay at the time, though," Kyle said.
       "It was much more political than it was religious," Brian said. "The Spanish claimed Florida for their king, and those French people, who just happened to be Protestants, wanted Florida, too. The religious stuff was just an excuse. It wasn't the real reason."
       "See, political doesn't make it right for me, either, Little Buddy," Justin said. "If I don't agree with you, can I kill you? What is that about?"
       "That doesn't make it right, either. But it was political more than it was religious. Don't be down on the Catholic Church for that," Brian said. "If you want reasons to be down on the Catholic Church, I can give you a bunch."
       "But you still believe in it, don't you?" Justin said.
       "Yes, I do, Buddy. Just like Kevin, Rick, Tim, Jeff, Tyler, the New Orleans relatives. I don't know what Kyle believes, if anything, but we've all dug beneath the surface and found something in the Catholic Church that we value," Brian said.
       "Brian, you've just listed off the best people I've ever known. If they can tolerate it, I reckon I can, too," Justin said.
       I thought about what I believed. I believed almost nothing that the Catholic Church said about sex and human sexual relationships. I believed most of what they said about social justice, poverty, the death penalty, economic reform, prejudice, war, and the sanctity of the individual conscience. I was a "cafeteria Catholic," but that was the way I had been raised and educated in Catholic schools. If they didn't want me to think, they should never have taught me how.
       After the forts, we went on the Scenic Cruise of St. Augustine. It only lasted about an hour and fifteen minutes, but we saw St. Augustine from the water. The cruise was very well narrated by somebody who really seemed to know the area and its history, and I had never been on anything like that before. That was really cool.
       After lunch, we went on the Old Jail Tour, which was interesting. It was a nineteenth-century jail, and they took imprisonment and punishment seriously back then.
       Our final sight of the day was the St. Augustine Lighthouse and Museum. It was a real working lighthouse that had been built in the 1870's. The Coast Guard owned it, maybe, but it seemed like a private foundation, or something, ran it. That part wasn't clear to me. The first lighthouse on that site, or near it, had actually toppled into the ocean. One of the things they had in the museum was a video of the shifting sandbars over the decades. It was amazing to me how much a coast changes over time. The current lighthouse had been much closer to the water when it was built than it was today because of that. In a lot of places, the shoreline is receding, but there it seemed to be increasing. Go figure.
       "I'm so tired I'm about to faint," Justin said. "You ain't been very spunky today. What the hell's the matter with you? Are you not feeling good?"
       "I'm feeling fine, thanks," Kyle said.
       "Whoa! I never got that out of you before. What's going on with you today?"
       "I've been doing a little thinking, okay? Will you cut me some slack?" Kyle said.
       "You're thinking about last night and what you said to Sean, ain't you? That boy needs a big brother bad right now, man, and you're the one to do it," Justin said.
       "Yeah, and I might need some protection tonight. I'm going to put it all on the table. The drugs and the sex," Kyle said.
       "What about the rock 'n' roll?" Justin asked.
       Kyle laughed.
       "You dumb fuck. I love you, Justin," Kyle said.
       "I think it's high time, Bubba. He's wilder than any of us ever dreamed of being. He's been sneaking out some at night, too, you know? Brian has caught him a few times. Those dogs don't take a breath that Brian don't know about it, and he's gotten up several times to see about them in the night. Every time it was Sean sneaking out, and some guy was waiting for him in a car," Justin said.
       "I didn't know about that," Kyle said. "I'll bet that was all about sex."
       "Yeah, me, too. I think he just smokes marijuana. He ain't doing heroin or crack or crank or any of those hard ones," Justin said.
       "He's fucked up bad, though, Bubba. I hope I can talk some sense into him. I'm going to give him some time to straighten up his act. If he doesn't, I'm going to Kevin and Rick about it," Kyle said.
       "I hear you. We'll both go. I know stuff about him, too, you know?"
       "Yeah, I reckon you do," Kyle said.
       I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but when I heard that conversation my blood ran cold. I was totally caught off guard. Rick and I had the philosophy that we gave the kids as much freedom as they wanted, and we hadn't yet had any reason to haul any of them in. If anything, I thought the Big Four were very conservative in their lifestyles, and Denny and Murray were still basically little boys. It sounded like Sean was a different story.
       "Kyle and Jus, come over here. I want to talk to you guys," I said.
       "What's up?" Justin asked.
       "I don't exactly know how to say this, but I overheard you guys talking about Sean. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but it happened," I said.
       "We're worried about him, Kev," Kyle said. "I'm in a real bad place right now about this. I'm going to talk to him tonight. Let's give it a month, and if things aren't better, I'll tell you and Rick everything I know. I'm worried that if we get on him too hard without giving him a chance to clean up his act, he'll run. He's a runner. He proved that when he ran here."
       "That's a point I hadn't thought of, and it's a good one. Thank you, guys, for being so wonderful," I said.
       "Well, we'll see just how wonderful this turns out to be," Kyle said. "I'm doing this blind, Kevin. On pure instinct, but I think I know how he thinks, especially after last night. Let's all say a prayer it's going to work."

Chapter 21

(Sean's Perspective)
       Wednesday night Kyle and I got into a little bit of a "throw down." He didn't say it, but I knew he didn't like my attitude. Frankly, I thought my attitude was pretty shitty, and I didn't blame him for feeling the way he did. He told me he was going to start being a much better big brother to me, and that started Thursday night.
       After sightseeing all day, we ended up back in Kyle's room. He made drinks for Justin, me, and himself, without my having to ask for one. I didn't know about the other two, but mine was pretty stiff.
       "Let's walk down to your room. I want to talk to you in private," he said, once the drinks were made.
       "Am I going to need protection?" I asked.
       "A condom?" he asked, incredulously.
       "No. I know that's out of the question. I meant, like, a bodyguard," I said.
       He laughed.
       "No, you won't need either kind of protection," he said.
       We went down to the other room.
       "I told you I was going to start being a better brother to you, and it's starting with this talk, okay?" he said once we were in my room. "I'm probably going to say some things you're not going to like, and if you get mad at me, we'll work through that later. I don't want this to be an argument, okay? And I don't want you to think I'm putting you down."
       "God, what did I do?" I asked. I meant for that to be funny, but it wasn't.
       "Sean, I said last night that I know you smoke. I think that's got to stop," he said.
       "Kevin and Rick see me smoking all the time, and they haven't said anything," I said.
       "I'm not talking about cigarettes, and you know it. Hell, I buy the damn things for you. I'm talking about smoking weed," he said.
       "Have you ever smoked weed?" I asked.
       "Yes, I have, but it's been a long time. I know a lot of people smoke, and I'm not going to say I never will again. But if they find it on you at school, you're expelled. Zero tolerance. And you're not just expelled from Beachside. You're expelled from the whole school system. Have you been smoking dope at school?"
       "A couple of times," I said.
       "Thank you for being honest," he said.
       "How did you know I smoke and that I've smoked at school?" I asked.
       "That is a very small community out there on the beach, and I'm very well known by lots of people," he said. "Word gets around."
       "Do you have spies?" I asked.
       "No, I don't have spies, but I have a lot of friends," he said.
       "Do you want me to promise you I'm not going to smoke anymore?" I asked.
       "No. I'm not asking for promises. All I'm doing is bringing up a few things that I'm aware of and that a lot of people are aware of. You make your own decisions," he said.
       "But if I don't decide the way you want me to, you'll hate me, right?"
       "No, I won't. All I'll do is know I did what my conscience told me it was my responsibility to do. If it gets too bad, Kevin and Rick are going to find out. They just will," he said.
       "Okay. What else do you want to talk about?" I asked.
       "Sex," he said. "How many guys have you had sex with in the last seven days?"
       "Not enough," I said.
       That got a smile out of him, at least.
       "Seriously," he said.
       "I don't know," I said, and I was being honest.
       "You're getting a reputation as a slut. Are you aware of that?"
       I knew I was pretty promiscuous, but hearing him say that about me kind of took me aback.
       "You know about my sex life, too?" I asked.
       "You've been fucking some of my friends. Gay and straight. I'm telling you, people tell me stuff," he said. "I basically don't give a shit if you suck every dick in Emerald Beach, and I'm not passing judgment on you for doing it. Remember when we had that family talk after that guy came on to me in the bathroom at college? Either Kevin or Rick, one of them, said that some guys go through a 'slut' phase when they first come out. That's not my style, and, like I said, I'm not passing judgment on you if it's your style. I just want you to know that people are talking about you. And I'm afraid that reflects to some extent on the other six of us boys in the house, and it damn sure reflects on Kevin and Rick, too.”
       It hadn't crossed my mind that what I was doing reflected on them. That sort of bothered me.
       "You're still dating Scott, aren't you?"
       "Yes," I said.
       "Is he doing the same thing?"
       "Not that I know of," I said. "Does he know about me, too?"
       "I don't know. I haven't talked to him about it, but it wouldn't surprise me if he did," he said. "Scott grew up here, you know? He knows a lot of people, too."
       "Have I been making Scott look like a fool? I care because I really do like him," I said.
       "I haven't heard anybody say that, but I think that's probably a possibility," he said.
       "Shit. I've fucked up royally, haven't I?" I said.
       "I won't go quite that far yet, but it's something to think about, you know? If you're dating Scott, and everybody knows you are, I think you owe it to him to at least talk to him about screwing around," he said. "Who knows? He may be perfectly fine with your doing that. Have you guys ever talked about having an open relationship? I tend to think in terms of monogamy, but that's just Tim and I. That's what we want. I wouldn't be, but a lot of guys are happy in open relationships."
       "We're nowhere near your level of commitment, and that whole concept sort of scares me. I know some people can do that, but I'm not sure I can," I said. "I will talk to him about it, though."
       "I feel really good right now, like the two of us have communicated. I don't want to impose my values on you, that's for sure. At the same time, I felt I wouldn't be a good brother to you if I didn't say what I said," Kyle said. "I took a pretty big risk in doing this, but I don't get the feeling that you're mad at me or resent what I said."
       "Between last night and tonight, you've given me a whole lot to think about. I really appreciate it that you care, Bubba," I said.
       "You're not very happy, are you?" he said.
       "No, I'm not, but it doesn't have anything to do with Emerald Beach or the guys in the house. I came here looking for paradise, but I'm beginning to realize that my problems are inside me. I couldn't find a better environment to be a gay teenager in than our house and our family, so it's not that. It's me," I said.
       "Have Kevin and Rick talked to you about counseling?" he asked.
       "No, but I'm beginning to think I need some. What do you think?" I asked.
       "I'd do it, if I were you," he said.
       "What are you going to tell them about me?" I asked.
       "Nothing," he said. "Unless you want me to."
       "Tell them I told you I'd like to see a counselor. Will you do that for me?"
       "Absolutely," he said. "You remember that tomorrow we fly the planes?"
       I knew he was changing the subject because he had said everything he wanted to say.
       "I'm not going to go up," I said. "I've got too much on my mind for that. Thank you for talking to me, Bubba. You know I'm in love with you, don't you?"
       He laughed.
       "No, you're not. Don't say that, Sean," he said.
       "I won't say it, but I am, Kyle. So are Denny and Murray, I think," I said.
       "Shit. You guys. You'll get over it," he said.
       "Kyle, do you know what I just realized?"
       "What?"
       "You haven't made a single grammar mistake the whole time we've been talking. And you haven't had an accent, either. That's remarkable," I said.
       "Let's go get another drink," he said, and the accent and the grumble were back.

(Justin's Perspective)
       Kyle and Sean came back into our room. Denny, Murray, and Tim were sound asleep on the other bed, and Brian and I were making out. We were both naked as jaybirds and as hard as rocks.
       "Whoa! What'd I miss?" Kyle said.
       "Don't you knock?" I asked.
       "Not in my own room, I don't," Kyle said.
       Brian and I covered up with the sheet. Kyle had seen us hard so many times it wasn't anything to him. I didn't know that Sean ever had, though. I glanced at Brian to see if he was embarrassed, and he wasn't one bit. He had spent about thirty minutes on the phone with Miss Mary Ann, Kevin's secretary and the lady who took care of the dogs when we were gone, and he was all happy that they were doing good.
       He was the one who started the making out. I knew Kevin and Rick, and all our friends, thought me and Kyle were the two horn dogs, but Kyle and I knew the truth about our two. We had talked about it, even. Kyle called Tim his little sex monkey, and I knew that was true. Brian was my little sex monkey, too, though.
       "I want another drink," Kyle said. "You want one?"
       "I've had two already," I said.
       "So? You can't have three drinks?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah, I can. Make me one," I said.
       He brought me another drink, and he gave Sean one, too. Sean wanted a cigarette, and I did, too. I didn't even bother offering one to Kyle.
       "So, did you all have a good talk?" I asked.
       "Yeah, I think we did," Kyle said. "Our appointment at the airplanes is at eleven tomorrow. I'm so pumped about that, I can hardly stand it."
       "I know. Me, too," I said. "I hope me and you are up at the same time, 'cause if we are, I'm going to dive-bomb your ass."
       "I think it's simulation. I don't think you're really supposed to kill anybody," he said.
       "Oh, no? I thought it was okay to kill my best friend," I said sarcastically.
       "You dumb fuck," Kyle said, grinning at me.
       He called me that all the time. It was like a term of endearment. If he ever stopped calling me that, I knew I was on his shit list.
       We talked about what we had done that day, and made the odd insult, of course.
       "I'm tired," Kyle finally said. Brian was asleep at my side by then.
       "I'm feeling those drinks, too," I said. "Are you?"
       "Yeah. A little bit. That's why you drink 'em, though," he said.
       "Oh, really?" I was being very sarcastic to tease him.
       "Justin, you're lucky I've got good restraint, son," he said. "If I didn't have good restraint, I'd have to kill you."
       "Kiss me goodnight, instead, Kyle, and shut the fuck up," I said.
       He laughed.
       * * *
       The next morning we got together in the dining room. They had a breakfast buffet, and our family liked nothing better than a breakfast buffet. After we ate and Kyle downed his first cup of coffee, he had to take a dump. You could damn sure set your watch by him, if you only knew what time he was going to have that first cup. I had to piss again, so I went with him.
       "So, how'd it go last night?" I asked.
       "Shut up. I'll tell you in just a minute," he said.
       I heard 'em hit the water. Then I heard him pissing in the toilet. One minute, flat, and he was out of that stall. That was remarkable to me, but that's all it ever took him. A minute a day. Well, maybe three minutes, but no more than that.
       Kevin came in. He stood in front of a urinal, but I knew he wanted to talk more than he wanted to piss.
       "How did it go last night, Kyle?" Kevin asked.
       "I thought it went good," Kyle said. "We'll see, though."
       I wanted more details. That was the one thing about Kyle that annoyed me and everybody else. That boy could keep a secret better than anybody I knew. I knew me and Kevin weren't getting any more than that, though.
       "I'm so excited about today I could pop," Kyle said. "And tonight is the ghost thing. Is this an awesome place, or what?"
       "Yeah, it's awesome," Kevin said.
       * * *
       We had some time before our appointment at North American Top Gun, so we went to the Mission of Nombre de Dios. It was like this big Catholic shrine or something. I knew about the California missions. Some of them had turned into major cities, like San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego. But the Spanish missions in Florida were a hundred years older than the ones in California, and this one was the first.
       "I reckon the Catholics have been here longer than the Southern Baptists," I said.
       "The Catholics had been here three hundred years before anybody ever thought about being a Southern Baptist," Brian said.
       “I guess that's cool," I said.
       I loved Brian physically and every other way, but I was never going to go up against him in the mental department. That boy was both intelligent and educated, and I didn't have a prayer against him. Slowly, but surely, I was getting a little education, but I would never challenge him.
       We went into the shrine of Our Lady of La Leche. The English name of it was Our Lady of the Milk and Happy Delivery.
       "La Leche is Spanish for 'the milk,'" Rick said. "That's pretty gross, I think."
       "We talked to Jerry about Catholics worshiping bodily organs. This is just another example, and it sort of makes me want to puke," Kyle said.
       "The holy milk. I've never heard of that before," Kevin said.
       "Yeah, and your brother's got St. Rock as his confirmation saint," Tim said. "That sounds like an organ to me."
       We laughed at Tim. It was unusual for him to say funny stuff like that. He was mostly pretty serious.
       * * *
       We got to the plane place at about ten minutes to eleven. It was just going to be me, Rick and Kyle going up. The rest of them didn't want to do it. I knew from the first time it was mentioned that my Little Buddy wouldn't want to go up there.
       The plane ride was incredible. When I had been in a plane before, it was as a passenger. That time, though, I was in the co-pilot's seat, and it was completely different. We didn't go very high up, and I'm not ashamed to say, I got an erection. That didn't have a thing in the world to do with me being gay. It was just excitement on my part.
       I drove the plane for about twenty minutes. At first I was real cautious, but gradually I speeded it up and got really confident about it. It was fucking fabulous.
       Then we did the stunts, like rolling over and flying upside down. I was glad we did that before we ate lunch.
       After we ate lunch, we went to the first Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in the world, that Ripley himself had set up, and then we went to the Fountain of Youth National Archeological Park. There was all that Indian stuff at that Fountain of Youth place. The Timrucua Indian exhibit was awesome.
       We ate at an Outback Steakhouse that night.
       "Are there any gay clubs here?" Sean asked.
       "Not that I could find on the Internet, Bubba. I think you need to go up to Jacksonville for that," Kyle said.
       We went to some dumb-ass movie, and then we went on the Sheriff's Ghost Walk at midnight. That was fun, but it was a little bit hokey. I tried to scare Kyle and Brian, but I failed.
       "Get your hands off me," Kyle said.
       "It ain't me. It must be the ghost," I said.
       "It ain't no ghost. It's you, you dumb fuck," Kyle said.
       Kyle and I both laughed.

(Denny's Perspective)
       Everybody went to bed after the Sheriff's Ghost Walk. It was after one o'clock, and everyone was exhausted. We had had quite a big day.
       I had had several cokes and a couple of bottles of water that night, so I had to get up to pee during the night. Murray and I were sleeping in one bed, and Sean was in the other one by himself. I noticed his bed was empty. I figured he was with Kyle and Justin, and I didn't give it another thought. I did my business in the bathroom, and I went back to sleep.
       The next morning we all met up in the hotel restaurant. They had a great breakfast bar, and I got a lot.
       Murray came to the table with a heap of grits, a heap of eggs, and some bacon.
       "Murray! Don't eat that bacon, man. You're a Jew. You're not supposed to eat that, even if you aren't dieting," Kyle said.
       "I eat pork, Kyle. I'm a Reformed Jew. We eat pork. That stuff in the Bible is totally misunderstood," Murray said. "I'm eating it, Kyle. Dieting or not."
       Kyle grinned at him.
       "I'm just pulling your dick a little bit, Bubba. You know that. You're on vacation, and you ought to be able to eat whatever the hell you like," Kyle said.
       "You're pulling his dick?" Justin asked.
       "I wish," Murray said, in a real cute manner, and that made us laugh.
       Kevin and Rick were the last to get to the table with their food. They told us good morning.
       "Where's Sean? Is he up yet?" Kevin asked.
       "He must be. He wasn't in our room when Denny and I woke up," Murray said.
       "Have any of you seen him down here this morning?" Kevin asked.
       "No, sir, but come to think of it, he wasn't in his bed when I got up during the night to use the bathroom," I said.
       "What time was that?" Rick asked.
       "I don't know. I didn't check my watch. I figured he was talking with Kyle and Justin, or something," I said.
       "Guys, this bothers me," Kevin said. "Did he seem upset? Did he say anything about running away?"
       "No, he seemed like he was feeling pretty good yesterday," Kyle said. "We can check to see if he took his clothes from the room, though. He's not stupid. If he did run away, he would have at least taken the stuff he brought on the trip, don't you think?"
       "Denny, give me the key to your room, please," Kevin said.
       I gave it to him, and he and Rick got up to go check the room.
       "Just a minute," Murray said. "Let's go with them, Denny. They won't know what's our stuff and what's his stuff."
       "Good idea," I said, and the four of us went up to our room.
       "This is Sean's suitcase, and these are his clothes," Murray said. "Right, Denny?"
       "They're not mine, and if they're not yours, they have to be his," I said.
       "Shit!" Rick said. "What the fuck has he done?"
       "What do we do now?" Kevin asked. "Do we call the police?"
       "I'd be more inclined to start calling hospitals," Rick said. "We didn't count on this kind of shit, did we?"
       "No, we didn't, Babe, but let's stay calm and optimistic, okay?" Kevin said.
       "I noticed him talking to some guys yesterday at the Top Gun place," Murray said.
       "What kind of guys?" Rick asked. "Old? Young? What?"
       "Young-ish guys. Maybe in their twenties. All three of them went into the restroom together, and they were in there a pretty long time," Murray said.
       "Where were we?" Rick asked.
       "You were up in a plane, and Kevin was outside watching," Murray said. "Rick, please don't be mad at me. I didn't think anything of it until just now." He looked like he was getting a little teary-eyed.
       Rick wrapped his arms around Murray and pulled him into a hug.
       "Baby, I'm not mad at you one bit. It isn't your job to monitor your brothers' bowel movements. You didn't do anything wrong, Son," Rick said.
       "I know, but I feel terrible," Murray said.
       "Me, too," I said. "I should have woken y'all up last night when I noticed he was gone."
       Kevin put his arm around me.
       "Murray. Denny. Y'all didn't do anything wrong. If Sean is missing, it's not your fault," Kevin said.
       "But we're a family, and we're supposed to look out for one another," I said.
       "We are a family, Son, but Sean is sixteen years old. He's not a baby who has to be tended to every minute. We're behaving like a family right now," Kevin said.
       Just then somebody pounded on the door.
       "Open up," Justin shouted.
       Rick snatched the door open.
       "Y'all better get downstairs right away. Sean's back, and he's beat up bad," Justin said.
       Our rooms were on the fourth floor of the hotel, and we flew down the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. When we went into the restaurant, Sean was sitting at our table. Kyle, Tim, and Brian were standing up around Sean, and Brian was holding a napkin up to his face. Sean looked very bad, and he was crying. Some guy, who must have been the restaurant manager, was sort of hovering around, too.
       "Thank God you're okay," Kevin said, when he got to the table.
       "He's not okay, Kevin. In fact, I think he's in pretty bad shape," Brian said. "I think he might have a broken collarbone, and I think he has a dislocated finger."
       "What happened?" Rick asked.
       "I was beaten up," Sean said through his tears. "I hurt so bad."
       "I can call an ambulance, if you want me to," the restaurant guy said.
       I hate to be stereotypical, but I thought that man was gay just from the way he said that.
       "Thank you, but I think we can take him to an emergency room," Kevin said. "Is there one close by?"
       "Not real close," the restaurant guy said. "I'll go with you, if you like, to show you where it is."
       He was around twenty-five or so, and he was blatantly checking out Kevin and Rick. That really annoyed me, for some reason. I mean, I had seen guys checking those two out a bunch of times, but this was a family emergency in a nice hotel. It wasn't some gay cruise joint.
       "We'd appreciate that. Kyle, get the car, would you, please? Guys, this obviously changes our plans for today, but we've got to take care of him," Kevin said.
       "We know, Bubba. We'll be okay," Justin said. "Just take care of our little brother."
       I loved watching what was going on. When Justin spoke, the restaurant guy zeroed in on him for a major check-out, like he hadn't seen him before. If Justin noticed, he didn't say anything.
       The dining room of the hotel sort of opened right into the lobby, like it was all one big room. We heard a shrill whistle like the kind I've wanted to be able to do all my life but never could.
       "That's Kyle," Justin said. "He's got the car out front."
       "Can you walk, Sean?" Rick asked.
       "I think so," Sean said, but he made an awful noise when he took his first step.
       "Is it you foot or your leg or what?" Rick asked.
       "It's my balls," Sean said, and I could tell he was in excruciating pain.
       They hobbled him off.
       "Shit, my money is on his balls for getting him into all of this crap, in the first place," Justin said to Brian, Tim, Murray, and me.
       "I know you're not real crazy about Sean, Buddy, but can't you be at least a little sympathetic?" Brian asked.
       "He was warned, Brian. He knew what the dangers were, but he did it anyway. And he snuck out of the fucking hotel last night to do it, too," Jus said. "That little prick slapped everybody in this family in the face so he could get laid. How embarrassed do you think Kevin and Rick are going to be about this? Aren't you embarrassed? I'm embarrassed as shit about it. And that little fairy that works here. He near about shot a load in his pants when he saw Kevin and Rick. It wouldn't surprise me if he propositions one of 'em."
       "I thought he was going to proposition you," Brian said.
       "Yeah. Well. He didn't, and he ain't getting nowhere if he does," Justin said.
       "Do y'all think we could finish breakfast?" Murray asked.
       He said that real meek, but he was very cute. Everybody smiled. Plus, that was the biggest meal he had had in a long time, and I'm sure he was starving.
       "Come on, Bubba. Let's get us some more hot food," Justin said. "It's all you can eat. By the way, does anybody have any money?"
       "We can just sign for it," Brian said.
       "I know," Justin said. "I just wanted to scare you a little bit. Besides, I've got money. And you know I've got a credit card, too, don't you?"
       "You and Kyle have household credit cards, right?" Tim asked.
       "Yeah, we do. Kyle's got a Goodson one, too, which is what he charges most things to, except like groceries and stuff. But he and I both have personal ones. I ain't a kid anymore, Brian," Justin said.
       "You could have fooled me," Brian said.
       "Oh, yeah? What part of me fooled you?" Justin asked.
       God, they were so much in love and so cute together.
       "Not that part," Brian said, grinning.
       "I didn't think so," Justin said, grinning back.
       I wanted Kyle. I wanted Justin. Hell, I wanted Tim and Brian, too. I had too many crushes to even keep up with, and I suspected Murray was the same way.
       * * *
       After breakfast, we went up to our rooms to brush our teeth and take care of bathroom needs. Murray and I went down to their room when we were finished.
       "So, what are we going to do?" Justin asked, once we were all in their room.
       "Don't you think we ought to stay here and wait for them?" Tim asked.
       "Tim, that's what the cell phone's all about. I know Kyle's got his cell on him. He doesn't go anywhere without that phone," Justin said.
       "What's on the list?" Murray asked.
       "A lot of museums, it looks like," Brian said. He was flipping through the handout Kyle had given us. Justin was, too.
       "Oldest house, oldest schoolhouse, oldest store. Those don't hold much for me. This Lightner Museum sounds way too serious. 'Costumes, furnishings, mechanical musical instruments, cut glass, stained glass.' Unh-unh. I don't care about that," Justin said.
       "How about the Museum of Weapons and Early American History?" Tim asked.
       "Absolutely. That's a 'go' for sure, but let's do that at the last of the day, after Kyle and Rick get back. I know they'd both want to go to that place," Justin said.
       "Why don't we just do some shopping?" Murray said. "We haven't done any of that yet."
       I actually enjoyed shopping as an activity, but I knew Kevin, Rick, Kyle, and Justin didn't. I wasn't sure about Tim and Brian.
       "Shop for what?" Justin asked.
       "He means just walk around and look at the stuff they have in the stores and galleries, Buddy. Not shop for anything in particular," Brian said.
       "Yeah, I guess we could do that," Justin said.
       "Well, let's go," Brian said. "And I want you to buy me something nice, you hear?"
       "Like what? What do you need?" Justin asked, solicitously.
       "Justin, you just don't get the concept of shopping as recreation, do you?" Brian asked.
       "I guess I don't. I don't know what you're talking about," he said.
       Brian was just a little bit taller than Justin. Brian grabbed him and kissed him hard on the lips.
       "I love you so much, but you're the straightest queer I've ever heard of," Brian said.
       "Stop it. You're embarrassing me. I'm as gay as you are," Justin said.
       "I know you are, Buddy. I'm just having fun with you," Brian said.
       "God, don't you want that?" Murray said privately to me, referring to their relationship.
       "More than anything," I said.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I was sitting at the table eating my breakfast, and all of a sudden this man and Sean came in calling out my name.
       "What's that all about?" Tim asked.
       "Hell if I know," I said.
       I went over to see what the man wanted with me, and it was a taxi driver. He wanted $45. Sean was standing there, looking like shit. I gave the man $50, which I thought was the right tip, and I went back to the table. Brian and Tim had taken him back there.
       "Where the hell have you been?" I asked.
       "Don't ask me that right now," he said. "I've got some bad cuts and shit, Kyle."
       I could see he had some bad ones on his face. He had a lot of blood on his shirt and his face from his right cheek.
       Brian got a cloth napkin from the table, put some ice and cold water in it, and put it on his face where the cut was. Justin had gone to get Kevin and Rick.
       Brian became like a doctor or something. He, like, examined Sean or something. Sean let him do it, too.
       "What happened, Bubba?" Brian asked.
       "I got kicked a lot. That's all I know, Bri," he said.
       When Kevin and Rick came down, they took one look at him and wanted to take him to the emergency room. I thought that was a good idea. They told me to get the car, so I did.
       "Where to?" I asked, when we were all in the car. I didn't have a clue where a hospital was.
       "I'll give you directions," the guy from the hotel said. "By the way, my name's Stan Parker."
       We all introduced ourselves and said we were pleased to meet him.
       I wanted the 4-1-1 on what had happened to Sean, but he was in a whole lot of pain. I knew this was going to be a mess, and I was just glad we had gotten to fly the day before. If we had missed that because of him, he would have had worse injuries from me than he ever had from the guys who beat him up, that's for sure. Not really, of course, but I would have wanted to do it. I figured our little talk of the other night had done absolutely no good whatsoever.
       Stan kept giving me directions, and it was complicated getting there. He was in the shotgun seat, and Kevin and Rick were in the middle seat with Sean. Every time he told me something, Stan touched my arm. I figured he'd be going for my crotch any minute. He couldn't take his eyes off me. I enjoyed being admired as much as the next guy, but I didn't like it when guys were that obvious.
       We finally got to the hospital. Kevin went inside and came out a few minutes later with an orderly and a wheelchair. They got Sean inside the hospital.
       "Thanks for getting us here, Stan. I'll take you back to the hotel," I said.
       "No. Let's wait and see how long this is going to take. You won't be able to find your way back here without me, anyway," he said.
       "True," I said. "I hate for you to waste all day, but I appreciate it. My daddy's got a franchise of this same brand of hotel, and I'll get him to write a letter to somebody important about how nice you've been."
       "Your father owns a hotel?" he asked, like I had said he owns the Gulf of Mexico.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "My God," Stan said. "How old are you?"
       I didn't think that was a very relevant question in response to the fact that my daddy owns hotels, but maybe that was just a way of starting conversation.
       "Eighteen. I'll be nineteen next month," I said. "How old are you?"
       "Twenty-six," he said.
       I found a parking place, and we walked back to the emergency room entrance. None of my people were in the waiting room, so I figured they were in the back with Sean.
       "What happened to your friend?" Stan asked.
       "I don't know. We didn't get much out of him. Evidently some guys beat him up, though. Kevin and Rick are going to be supremely pissed off, too. I don't know what they're going to do with Sean," I said.
       They had a TV set on in that waiting room, and we were watching the Today Show. Matt Lauer was talking to that Stephen guy that's the flamer they have on there from time to time.
       "Does that guy bother you?" Stan asked me about Stephen.
       Stan wasn't as obvious as Stephen, but he would sure give ole Murray, Chad, and Gage a run for the money.
       "Bother me? Why would he bother me? I think he's funny, and he's smart as hell, too. He knows more shit about Hollywood and the celebrities than anybody I've ever listened to," I said. "I think he's probably gay, but I ain't prejudiced against gay people. Are you?"
       "No, not at all," he said. "I think I come across a little like him sometimes."
       No, I thought. You come across a lot like him, but I didn't say that.
       "He probably can't help the way he acts, and you probably can't, either. Of course, I think he's making money off the way he acts and talks," I said. "He might even be putting on a little bit to make the act better."
       "You're remarkable," he said.
       "What does that mean?" I asked.
       "Well, most straight guys would ridicule him. And me," he said.
       "Well, they're just assholes, is all they are," I said.
       We shut up and watched the TV. Stephen was going on about how good his hair was that day, and ole Matt and Al and Katie and Ann Curry were all going along with him, sort of tongue in cheek. Stephen had to know his hair looked like shit, like it always did, and he was pulling a big, fat-ass joke on the whole fucking country. That Stephen guy had some big-ass balls on him, that's for sure. He kind of reminded me of Gage a little bit, but ole Gage was ten times better looking than Stephen was.
       "Kyle, do you have a girlfriend?" Stan asked, pawing my arm some more.
       "Stan, please don't touch me like that, okay?" I said.
       "I'm sorry, Kyle. That's a very bad habit I have. I didn't mean anything by it," he said.
       I felt like shit for having said that. I knew he didn't mean anything by it, but I just don't like random touching like that, especially by people I don't know.
       "I know you didn't, man, but that makes me nervous. And, no, I don't have a girlfriend. I have a boyfriend. I'm gay," I said.
       "Please don't make fun of me," he said, in this pitiful little voice.
       "I'm not making fun of you. I really am gay, and I really do have a boyfriend. His name is Tim Murphy, and we've been together for almost three years," I said.
       "I want to believe you, Kyle, but . . "
       "Believe me, Stan. Would I say that about myself if it wasn't true. Every one of us in the group at that table is gay. We're a gay family, man. Which reminds me. I need to call my family and tell them what the hell's going on here," I said.
       I dug my phone out of my pocket and called Tim's number.
       "Hey, I'm at the hospital. What are you guys doing?"
       "Hey, Babe. Is Sean okay?" Tim asked.
       "I don't know. He's in the back with Kevin and Rick and the doctors, I guess. What are y'all doing?"
       "Shopping," Tim said.
       "Shopping for what?" I asked.
       "Just shopping. We're not looking for anything in particular. We're just passing the time. How long are you guys going to be?"
       "I don't know. I'm hanging out with Stan, the guy from the hotel. Turns out he's a nice guy. He doesn't believe I'm gay, though."
       "It's because you don't like to shop," Tim said.
       "I want you to vouch for me being gay, okay? Let me give the phone to him," I said.
       "Okay," Tim said.
       "This is my boyfriend, Tim Murphy. He's going to vouch for the fact that I'm gay because I still don't think you believe me," I said to Stan.
       "Hello? Tim? It's Stan," he said.
       Pause.
       "You're kidding. My God, it's that big?" Stan said.
       Pause.
       "Oh, I can imagine. You lucky boy," Stan said.
       Pause.
       "He's very cute, except for the hair," Stan said. "I really prefer the bleached-blond scarecrow cut."
       "Gimme my phone," I said, almost shouting.
       He handed it to me.
       "What did you tell him?" I demanded.
       Tim was laughing his damn ass off. It took him a few seconds before he could even talk.
       "Kyle, that guy got you last in the worst way, and I'll bet he doesn't even know the game," Tim said. It sounded like he was gasping for air, he was laughing so hard.
       I looked Stan full in the face, and he was grinning like that famous cat that I can never remember.
       "You shithead," I said, and that made him and Tim both laugh. "I'm hanging up. I love you, and I don't know how long we're going to be here. Bye."
       Stan and I were both laughing our asses off. He was a good guy, and I knew he'd fit right in with us. If you're not anything else, you've got to be clever to fit in with the Foley-Mashburn crowd, and that guy definitely was clever.
       After we settled down, Stan asked,
       "Where do you all live?"
       "Emerald Beach, Florida. You ever hear of it?"
       "You're kidding, right? Of course I've heard of it. I went to FSU. I've been there a hundred times," he said.
       "Kevin and Rick went to FSU. They majored in hospitality, same as I'm going to," I said.
       "Oh, my God! That's where I know them from. When I saw them this morning, I knew I had seen them before. But I don't remember them being a couple in school," he said.
       "They weren't. They each thought the other one was straight. They didn't get together until they both got jobs in Emerald Beach. Now they both work for my daddy," I said.
       "They say it's a small world, after all," he said.
       "Listen, if you start singing that fucking song, I'm getting up and leaving," I said.
       He laughed hard.
       "I won't sing. I hate that song, too," he said.
       "You went to FSU. Where are you from?" I asked.
       "I'm actually from the Panhandle. Freeport, in Walton County. Have you heard of that?"
       "I've been through Freeport a bunch of times. Damn, man. We're neighbors. Did you ever hear of Goodson Enterprises in Emerald Beach?"
       "Of course, I have. They have, like, a dozen hotels and motels. I tried to get an internship at one of them, but I didn't match the demographics, or something," he said.
       "They have eleven hotels and motels, and sixteen gift shops, too. And my daddy's got a big hotel in Destin, too. Kevin runs the hotels, and Rick runs the gift shops. Oh, and by the way, my full name is Kyle Goodson," I said.
       If I had had my camera there, that face would have been in my next book. That boy just about shit a brick.
       "I think you might consider this your lucky day," I said. "I think Kevin is always looking for talent, and maybe you've got what it takes."
       "My God! My parents would have a fit if I moved to Emerald Beach," he said.
       "Well, talk to Kevin. Are you out to your parents?" I asked.
       "Kyle, I've been out since I was four years old," he said.
       I laughed.
       "I don't believe that," I said.
       "Seriously, I don't think anybody in Freeport ever believed I was anything but gay my whole life. That's the way it is in a tiny village. I was the town queer. I was never picked on for it or made fun of to my face. I was the one who made all the flower arrangements for church dinners, who decorated the church for weddings, and who had the lead in the high school musical. Even though I can't sing very well. I was friends with everybody, and everybody understood and accepted the fact that I was different.
       "I have a brother who is a couple of years younger than I am. He's a total jock. Football, baseball, hunting, fishing. You name it. I worship him, Kyle. His name is Eugene, but most people call him Gene."
       "Damn, that's my daddy's name," I said.
       "I know. Anyway, Eugene was very protective of me, and he never let the other guys make fun of me. He just got married about a year ago," he said. "I think his wife is a bitch. She doesn't like me at all, and I think she resents Eugene's relationship with me."
       "That's kind of a switch, you know? The younger brother protecting the older brother," I said.
       "I know, but that's the way it was," Stan said.
       Stan and I had been there talking a long time, and they finally brought Sean out in a wheelchair.
       "Brian diagnosed everything. Broken collar bone and dislocated finger," Rick said.
       Sean had a splint, or something, on one of his fingers on the left hand. I knew they really couldn't cast the collar bone. They had cleaned his face up very good, but he had a bandage on his right cheek. It wasn't much bigger than a Band-Aid.
       "Did you get some stitches in your cheek?" I asked.
       "Yeah. Five," he said.
       "That'll be like a dueling scar, man. That is too cool," I said.
       "A plastic surgeon did the stitches. He said there wouldn't be a scar," Sean said.
       "Aw, man," I said.
       "You asshole," Sean said, and we all laughed.
       I drove us back to the hotel under Stan's directions, and we went to a pretty cool weapons museum that afternoon. Tim had bought me a really neat St. Augustine tee shirt that morning, and a nice baseball cap, too. I didn't have a chance to buy him shit, but that kind of thing didn't matter between us.
       * * *
       "I want us to take Stan out to a really nice dinner tonight," I said. "I want him to get to know us and us to get to know him. He might be somebody you're interested in hiring, Kevin."
       "Sure, but I doubt we can get a reservation at any nice places this late," Kevin said.
       "I consider Outback 'nice,'" I said.
       They laughed.
       "All you're interested in is the meat," Justin said.
       We all laughed at his pun.

Chapter 22

(Sean's Perspective)
       The big activity for Friday was a trip to North American Top Gun so the guys could fly the planes. I wasn't interested in doing that. The planes were old, and I didn't trust them one bit.
       The place was an airport that catered to Top Gun and a few small, private planes. It must have been a commercial airport at one time, though, because it had a terminal building, with chairs and all, for people who were waiting. There were a couple of young guys in there who caught my eye right away.
       I walked over and struck up a conversation with them. They were both in their late teens or early twenties, and they were dressed in clothes that weren't real fashionable. I mean, they were wearing jeans and tee shirts, but they were old and worn-out looking. And they really didn't look all that clean. They both could have used a haircut, too.
       "What's up?" I asked.
       "Nothing much," one guy said. "We're waiting for my cousin."
       "I'm waiting for some guys who are flying the planes," I said. "Do you guys live here?"
       "Yeah. You?"
       "Naw. Just visiting," I said. "Is there any action around this place?"
       "What kind of action?" one of them asked.
       "Action for a horny boy, that's what kind," I said.
       One of them held up his right hand.
       "This is about it," he said.
       The other one laughed.
       "Have you guys ever had blowjobs?" I asked.
       "Shit. I wish," the second guy said. "Have you?"
       "Yeah, and I've given some, too," I said. "Are you interested?"
       Their eyes got big.
       "Are you serious, man?" the second guy asked. "What are you? Some kind of fag or something?"
       "Yes to both questions," I said. "Does that bother you?"
       "Not if you're giving blowjobs. How much?" the first guy asked.
       "Free," I said. "I'm horny as hell, and I want to get off."
       "Let's go," the first guy said.
       We went into the men's room together. It was small, but there was enough room. I took care of the first guy, who's name was Jake, and I came with just a little bit of rubbing. I came with the second guy, Ryder, too. They both thanked me big time and said the blowjobs were fantastic.
       "What are you doing the rest of the day?" Jake asked.
       "I've got to hang out with those guys I'm with," I said. "Why? What do you have in mind?"
       "We came here to score some smoke off my cousin, and we plan to party the whole day, and the whole night, too," Jake said. "What time are you going to be done with them?"
       "Shit, not till late tonight. We're supposed to go to some lame-ass ghost walk thing at midnight," I said.
       "Meet up with us then," Ryder said.
       "I'd like to, but I don't have a ride," I said.
       "We'll pick you up. Where are you staying?" Ryder asked.
       I told him the name of the hotel, and he said they knew where it was.
       "Meet us out front around 1:30," Ryder said. "We'll pick you up. I know his cousin's going to want a blowjob, and we're going to want another one, too."
       "No problem," I said. "I'm going to want some of that smoke, too."
       They chuckled.
       "I figured you would," Jake said.
       They finally came inside from flying the planes around one o'clock. Jake and Ryder were long gone by then. We went to lunch, and all Kyle and Justin could talk about was how awesome their plane rides were. You would have thought they had been on the first flight at Kitty Hawk or something.
       "When I first took over, I was real nervous, you know?" Justin said. "We weren't up all that high, but I knew I was flying it. At first I was going kind of slow, but he told me to speed it up, so I did. I was so excited I got a hard-on."
       "I got one, too," Kyle said.
       He and Justin were so happy and soooooo fucking cute. They were grinning at each other and high-fiving and all.
       "You two are such fags," Rick said.
       "You got one, too, didn't you?" Justin asked Rick.
       "No, I did not," Rick said.
       "I don't think he can get 'em at his age, Justin," Kyle said.
       "Very funny, Kyle," Rick said. "Ask Kevin."
       "Leave me out of this," Kevin said.
       "That's a loyal husband, right there," Kyle said. "He won't tell the secrets of the bedroom for nothing."
       "Goddamn it! I can get an erection anytime I want to," Rick said. It was fun watching this because he was taking them seriously.
       "Look at him," Justin said.
       "I know," Kyle said.
       "What?!" Rick demanded.
       "Bubba, we got you last so bad, you ain't ever hearing the end of this," Justin said.
       Rick turned red and looked at Kevin. Kevin just grinned and nodded.
       "Fuck!" Rick said. "Shit, I can't believe I fell for that. Yeah, you did get me last for sure, you shitheads."
       That afternoon we went to the original Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum, which had been set up by Ripley himself a long time ago. That had some really cool stuff in it, and I enjoyed that.
       Then we went to the Fountain of Youth National Archeological Park. Ponce de Leon, the guy who "discovered" Florida for the Spanish, was looking for the Fountain of Youth. You were supposed to be able to drink the water out of the Fountain of Youth and be young forever.
       "This is bullshit," Justin said. "All it is, is a regular damn water fountain. Not only that, but I don't want to be a kid my whole life. I want to grow up. I want to be a man."
       "God, almighty! You win the 'thick-head award' for sure. It's a tourist trap. It ain't real, Bubba. It's just a regular ole spring. Do you see any eighty-year-old kids around here?" Kyle demanded.
       "So why did ole Ponce come all the way from Spain for this? Huh? Answer me that, Kyle," Justin said. "He was a serious man. He knew what the hell he was doing."
       Kyle looked at Justin with that certain look that said Kyle had been "had."
       "You're pulling my dick, aren't you?" Kyle said.
       "Your dick's the real Fountain of Youth, if you want to know the truth about it," Justin said.
       "You fucker. I hate you, Justin," Kyle said, laughing.
       The thing about those two was they did mini comedy routines constantly, and that was just one example, of many. I don't think they planned them out. They just happened, and Tim and Brian were their best audience. You could almost feel the love among those four guys.
       We had dinner that night, went to a movie, and then we went on the Sheriff's Ghost Walk.
       "Cut it out," Kyle said loudly, while we were on the Ghost Walk.
       It was just us in that tour group, and Justin had rubbed his butt. Of course, that was all Justin needed. In another hundred yards, Justin reached around Kyle and fondled his crotch.
       "Get your damn hands off me, Justin," Kyle said.
       "That wasn't me. That must have been the ghost," Justin said.
       "If I get touched again, you're going to be a ghost," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, big talk," Justin said.
       "Does anybody happen to have a loaded pistol on 'em?" Kyle asked.
       "I could load up my pistol pretty quick, if you wanted me to," Justin said.
       "Not that kind of pistol, you dumb fuck," Kyle said.
       The tour guide was a young guy, probably a college student. I thought he was going to keel over, he was laughing so hard at them. If he wasn't gay, he was very gay-friendly, that's for sure. He knew what was going on.
       Everybody was tired when we got back to the hotel, and we didn't even gather to have a drink. I was sleeping in a bed by myself, and Denny and Murray were sleeping in the other bed. I checked my watch as soon as I heard their breathing get regular, like they were asleep. I whispered their names a time or two, just to be on the safe side, and they didn't say anything. I got out of bed, got dressed, and slipped out of the room. I didn't take my wallet because I didn't want it lifted off me by those guys, in case that's what it turned out to be, but I did take my room key, which was just a credit card thing anyway.
       I'm sure there must have been somebody on duty somewhere in the hotel, but it was dead quiet and nobody was around. It wasn't scary or anything, but it seemed a little creepy. Outside, there wasn't any traffic on the streets. It was quiet out there, too, and that was a little eerie. I started to go back inside and forget the whole thing, but that's when Jake and Ryder pulled up.
       I don't know what kind of car it was, but it was old and pretty beat up. It had a bench seat in the front, and they made me get in the middle. Jake was driving. I wasn't in the car for more than a few seconds when they handed me a joint and a bottle of whiskey. I lit the joint and took a big hit, and then I took a swig of the whiskey. I had never had straight whiskey before, and it burned like fire going down. I coughed a little, and Jake and Ryder laughed.
       "Just take sips," Ryder said.
       I did what he said, and I got some more down a lot easier. Ryder took the bottle and took a swig. Then he passed it to Jake, and he did the same. Ryder belched, and they giggled almost uncontrollably. They were high or drunk or both. Ryder grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch.
       "Help me out here, stud," he said.
       I wasn't sure if he wanted me to jerk him off or what.
       "Do you feel it?" he asked.
       He had an erection.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "Take it out and suck me off," he said.
       I unzipped his jeans and his dick popped out. He either wasn't wearing underwear or he was wearing boxers with a big slit. The front seat of the car was crowded, but I managed to get my face down to his dick. I started working on it, and the body odor was strong. He definitely needed a shower. A few times he pushed my head down, and once he pushed so far that I gagged. That had never happened to me before. I kept sucking and sucking, working it as best I could. It was taking much longer than it had that morning. My mouth was getting tired and was starting to hurt, so I pulled off him.
       "Don't stop. I want to shoot," he said.
       "You might not be able to shoot. Too much whiskey and too much weed. One time I fucked a bitch for forty-five minutes when I was wasted, and I never shot. She came, like, a dozen times, and finally I passed out on top of her," Jake said.
       "I can come," Ryder said. "I ain't ever not come."
       I went back to work on him, and he was already losing his erection. In another few minutes, we were at the place we were going, though. It was a single-wide trailer in a deserted-looking wooded area.
       "Come on. Let's go. Billy's waiting for us," Jake said.
       "Shit," Ryder said, "but I'm going to come if it's the last thing I do."
       There was loud music coming from the trailer, and I heard a noise like somebody knocking over furniture when we got to the door. It wasn't locked, so we went right in. Inside the place was a wreck. The weed smoke was so thick that I almost didn't need a joint to get high, and there was garbage all over the place. The coffee table had part of a pizza still in the box, and somebody must have turned over an ashtray because there were cigarette butts and ashes all over the table, including on the pizza. It was disgusting.
       I met Billy, who was Jake's cousin. He looked like he weighed about three hundred pounds, and all he had on was jeans. No shirt. He had several tattoos on his upper body, including a couple that looked homemade.
       "Ryder, why the fuck is your dick sticking out?" Billy asked.
       "I was getting a blowjob when we got here, and I ain't put it away yet," Ryder said. "Get back to work, faggot."
       I did as I was told, and, finally, after what must have been a half hour, he shot his load into my mouth. I came, too, and I got some of my cum on his leg.
       "Lick it off me, mother fucker," he said, and he popped me a good one on the side of the head.
       When he hit me like that, I got scared.
       "No more blowjobs," I said.
       "That's what you think, faggot," Jake said.
       "I'd just as soon stick it up his ass, if he won't give me a blowjob," Billy said. "You'd probably like that better, anyway, wouldn't you?" I guestimated he had an IQ of about 25, on a good day.
       "No. I don't take it up the butt," I said.
       "You must be a rookie fag, then," Billy said. "But that's what it's going to be, if you won't blow me."
       At that point, I didn't see that I had many options.
       "Who's next?" I asked.
       "Atta boy," Jake said. "I am."
       Jake didn't take nearly as long as Ryder had taken, and I didn't come with him. Billie was next, and he was rough. His dick was both longer and thicker than Jake's and Ryder's, and he kept trying to force it down my throat. I was gagging pretty bad from him doing that, and then, finally, he shoved it in with a lot of force. I lost it and puked all over him.
       When that happened, he slammed his fist into the side of my head, and he knocked me down. I hit the corner of the coffee table with my cheek, and he started kicking me, mostly in my nuts but other places, too. I was screaming in pain, begging him to stop, but he wouldn't. I passed out after something in my shoulder snapped from a kick.
       * * *
       The next thing I was aware of was waking up the next morning on the side of a road. I had no idea what time it was, but it seemed like it was early. There wasn't any traffic on the road, and I certainly had no idea where I was.
       Everything hurt. My shoulder was killing me, my face stung like hell, I knew my finger was broken, and my balls were hurting like crap. I stood up, and the pain in my groin was so bad it knocked me down again. When that happened, a pickup truck drove by, and the driver saw me. He got a little past me, and then he backed up.
       "Are you okay?" he called out.
       "No. Can you help me? I got in a fight and got the shit beat out of me. Have you got a cell phone?"
       He pulled his truck off the road and turned off the engine. He got out of the cab and walked over to me, phone in hand. He was just a kid, my age probably, but he looked like he was a good kid.
       "Do you want me to call 9-1-1?" he asked.
       "No, but would you call me a taxi?" I asked.
       "Sure," he said. "But I don't know how to tell them where we are. I'll take you back to a convenience store back a-ways, and the taxi can pick you up there."
       I got in his truck, and I was careful not to get blood on the seat. It was mostly dry by then, anyway. I noticed my fly was open, so I zipped it up. It wasn't far to the convenience store, and he looked up the number for the taxi in a phone book that was hanging under a payphone out in front of the store.
       That guy was really being nice to me, and, if it hadn't been for him, I would have really been up shit creek. I thought about offering him a blowjob as a way of saying "thank you," but the taxi got there before I had time to decide for sure if I wanted to do that.
       "Man, thank you so much," I said. "You saved my life. I wish I could give you some money, but I don't have a dime on me right now."
       "You don't need to do that. That's what a Christian is supposed to do, ain't it?"
       "Yeah, and you're definitely a Christian," I said. Whatever, I thought.
       "I try. Well, listen, I need to get to work, and you need to get wherever you're going. Good luck," he said, and we shook hands. I didn't even know his name, and he didn't know mine.
       The taxi driver looked at me really funny when I started to get in the back seat.
       "How you paying for this ride?" he asked, not at all friendly.
       "You'll get paid. Don't worry," I said.
       "Who's going to pay me? You?" He had contempt in his voice.
       "My foster father will. Mister, please, I'm begging you. Some guys jumped me, stole my wallet, and beat me up," I said. "I'm pretty desperate right now. Please believe me. You'll get your money."
       He hesitated a long time before he said anything.
       "I'm probably making a mistake . . but, all right, get in," he said.
       I told him where I needed to go, and he got me there in about fifteen or twenty minutes. I started to get out and go inside the hotel, but he wouldn't let me.
       "Get somebody out here to pay me," he said.
       "I can't. I'm going to have to go inside for that," I said.
       "All right, but I'm going with you," he said.
       The lobby of the hotel opened into the dining room, and I saw Kyle, Justin, Brian, and Tim at a table. I called out Kyle's name. They all looked up, startled, and then they all got up and rushed over to me.
       "What the fuck happened to you?" Kyle demanded.
       "I'll tell you all about it later. Would you pay for the taxi, please," I said.
       "Let me go get Kevin and them," Justin said, and he took off. Brian and Tim helped me to the table, and Kyle paid the cab driver.
       "What hurts?" Brian asked.
       "Everything," I said.
       "No, seriously," he said.
       "My face, my shoulder, my finger, and my balls," I said.
       He touched my shoulder and I jumped, and then he looked at my finger.
       "I think your finger's dislocated," he said, "and I'll bet your collar bone is broken or cracked."
       Brian wet a napkin with some ice water that was on the table, and he held it up to my cheek. Feeling him touch my face so gently and tenderly like that made me start to get hard. I thought I might be turning into a sex fiend.
       * * *
       They called in a plastic surgeon to sew up my face so I wouldn't have a bad scar, and the doctor examined me from head to toe. He made me get naked and lie up on the table. It was just the doctor, Kevin, and Rick, so I felt like I was safe. Being naked like that on an examining table was embarrassing to me, even though Kevin and Rick had seen me naked before. At least they let me cover up when the other doctor was working on my face.
       The doctor "fixed" my dislocated finger by pulling on it. Hard. I almost passed out. He put a splint on it and told me to keep it like that for at least a week.
       He examined my nuts, and that was very painful, too.
       "Testicles are a lot sturdier than most men think they are," he said. "His are swollen, but not terribly. He'll probably have some discomfort for a few days, but I can give him a script for something to make the swelling go down."
       He was talking to Kevin and Rick about me like I wasn't there.
       "You don't think his are terribly swollen?" Rick asked the doctor.
       "No. I've seen swollen testicles the size of grapefruits," the doctor said.
       "Yeah, but see, he's usually built like a chipmunk," Rick said.
       "Thanks a lot, Dad," I said with a lot of sarcasm, and the doctor laughed.
       "Sean, I want to examine your penis, too, okay?" the doctor said.
       Shit, I thought.
       "Okay," I said.
       "Tell me if there's any sharp pain," he said. He pulled my penis out as far as it would go, and then he rotated it around in the full range of motion. "Any pain?"
       "No," I said.
       There may be a sixteen-year-old boy somewhere who can have a doctor do that to him without having some kind of reaction, but he wasn't the boy on that table that morning. I started getting hard, and I made a noise.
       "Does that hurt?" the doctor asked, all concerned.
       "No," I whimpered.
       "Okay, and I see it still works, too," he said.
       He looked at Kevin and Rick with a big shit-eating grin on his face, and the three of them laughed. Jesus! Give me a fucking break, I thought. He flicked it with his finger, and the erection went away almost instantly.
       "We need some x-rays of that collar bone," he said, "and that will about do it."
       It was one o'clock in the afternoon by the time they finished with me. We stopped at a drugstore on the way back to the hotel to get my prescriptions filled. I was still in a lot of pain, so I took the medicine in the car. I could barely get up to my room. When I got there, I took off my shorts and hit the bed. I was out like a light.

(Rick's Perspective)
       Sean went to sleep as soon as we got to the hotel, and Kevin and I went down to the other boys' room to talk.
       "How's Sean?" Brian and Tim asked in unison, as soon as we walked into the room.
       "I think he's going to be fine," Kevin said. "He was beaten up pretty badly, but he probably won't even have any scars from it."
       "That's good," Brian said.
       "Maybe. Maybe not," Justin said.
       "Buddy, you have to give him some sympathy," Brian said.
       "We've been over this already. You know how I feel about him," Justin said.
       I had only heard Justin talk that sharply to Brian once or twice before. I knew he had strong feelings about what had happened to Sean, though.
       Justin put his arm around Brian, and they smiled at each other.
       "I didn't mean to snap at you like that, Buddy," Justin said.
       "I know," Brian said softly.
       There was an awkward silence for a few seconds. Kyle took Tim's hand in one of his and Brian's hand in the other one.
       "Oh, I almost forgot. We bought you guys something this morning," Brian said, evidently not emotionally upset about his exchange with Justin.
       He got up and went to a bag that was on the floor. He produced baseball caps that were souvenirs of St. Augustine for Kevin and me. It was only then that I noticed that all of them were wearing caps identical to ours.
       "Thanks, guys. You didn't have to buy us anything," Kevin said.
       "Yeah, we did. You can't just shop and not buy anything. That's too fucking gay," Justin said.
       "Brian told Justin this morning that he's the straightest gay guy he's ever heard of because he doesn't like to shop," Murray said.
       "Oh, yeah?" I said, and I knocked the bill of Murray's cap.
       "Stop it," Murray said.
       "Stop what, Son?" I said, and I knocked the bill again. "Huh?" and I knocked it again. "Stop what?" and I knocked the bill again.
       "Kevin, make him stop it," Murray said. He was laughing his ass off. Murray didn't exactly fit the profile for horseplay, but he was just a boy and loved it like the rest of them. Especially when I showed him some attention like I was doing then.
       I grabbed Murray in a hug, and I rolled us both off the bed. We landed on the floor with a thud.
       "Aww! I think you broke my coccyx," Murray said, laughing his ass off.
       "God almighty! He broke your cock?!" Justin said.
       We all screamed with laughter. I couldn't imagine a better life for Kevin and me than with those kids. Kevin and I had had fun together before the kids, but it was nothing like it was now.
       "I don't know about y'all, but I'm starting to get ants in my pants," Kyle said, after we had calmed down.
       "Ants in your pants? Shit, that's what I've been looking for all my life," Justin said.
       I think we were all a little punchy because of what had happened with Sean, and we all laughed way more than the humor called for.
       "I'm ready to go," Kyle said.
       "Where do you want to go?" Justin asked.
       "There's a place called the Museum of Weapons and Early American History. That's where I want to go," Kyle said. "We can leave him here, can't we?"
       "I'll stay here with Sean," I said. "Y'all go ahead."
       "Babe, I'll stay. You go," Kevin said.
       "Kevin, I'm tired, okay? You wore my ass out last night," I said.
       "Oh my God! I want all the details of that," Justin said.
       "You shit," Kevin said, knocking my cap off and laughing hard. "I love you so much."
       "Oh-oh. Do y'all need some privacy?" Justin asked.
       That made me laugh hard.
       "No. Get your asses out of here," I said. "All of you. I'm going to go take a nap on that other bed in Sean's room. Have fun."
       * * *
       I let myself into Sean's room quietly. I stood and looked at him for a few minutes. Asleep like he was, he was a tender, beautiful, innocent child. The right side of his face was puffed up, and his eye and cheek on that side were a very violent black, purple, and red. I knew his testicles and finger were swollen, too, and I knew it was probably all from his own doings.
       Justin had a way of cutting through the crap, and I knew he wasn't terribly fond of Sean. Sean was an upper-middle-class kid, and Justin came from dirt. There was that disparity, for one thing. Of course, Kyle and Tim came from upper-middle- class backgrounds, and maybe even upper class in Kyle's case, if upper class meant he'd never really have to work for a living. But Kyle and Tim "saved" Justin. Plus, he loved them, and they loved him. Kyle was totally at home with anybody, dirt poor or filthy rich, and Tim was growing more and more like Kyle, the longer they were together.
       Brian was a bit of a wild card in that mix. He didn't come from a family that was dirt poor, like Justin's and Denny's, but we knew he fit into the Big Four perfectly. Ultimately, Brian was probably the most talented, intellectually, of the lot, but he worshipped Justin, just as Tim worshipped Kyle. All four of those guys were extremely smart, although Kyle and Justin affected the local "I'm dumber than you are, and I can prove it" mentality. They'd grow out of that when they got to New Orleans for college, but they'd fall right back into it when they went back to Emerald Beach as adults. It gave them prestige there.
       I took off my shorts and got into the second bed in the room. I thought about the incredible men I’m helping to raise, and I gradually slipped off to sleep.
       * * *
       I slept for about an hour and a half. When I woke up, Sean was still sound asleep. I turned on the TV and watched a golf tournament. That put me back to sleep, and I didn't wake up again until Sean did.
       I woke up the second time to the sound of Sean and a lamp hitting the floor. The lamp was brass, so it didn't break, and I was hoping Sean hadn't either.
       "Stay put," I said.
       "I'm okay, Rick," he said. "I just missed my step. That's all. I'm fine."
       I helped him stand up and picked up the lamp.
       "Where were you going? To the bathroom?" I asked.
       "Yeah," he said.
       "Do you need to pee?" I asked.
       He had a big hard-on tenting out his briefs, and I knew that was "morning wood," even though it was five o'clock in the afternoon.
       "Yeah, I do," he said.
       "You need a shower, too. Can you take a shower without getting the bandage on your face wet?" I asked.
       "I think so," he said.
       "Just piss in the shower, man. I do it all the time," I said.
       He grinned.
       "Me, too," he said.
       He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. He got dressed, and then he turned to me with a big grin on his face. The bandage on his cheek was gone, and the wound didn't look all that bad. It was only about a half inch long, and the stitches were very small and very close together.
       "I think I need to shave," he said.
       I remembered when I was sixteen and wanted to shave every day, too. Shaving was an affirmation of my manhood, my masculinity. I hate shaving now, but I loved it when I was his age.
       "Yeah, I think you need to," I said. "Be careful. Don't cut your face up."
       "I won't," he said. "I know how to shave."
       "I know you do," I said.
       He hadn't closed the door when he took his shower, but he closed it when he shaved. Sean was so different, so complex. I wanted to just go in that bathroom with him, and just grab him and hug him to let him know he was okay. Of course I didn't, but I wanted to.
       * * *
       "Rick, you would have loved it," Justin said. "It was the Museum of Weapons and Early American History, and they had this concrete block exercise yard. They turned the Death Row prisoners loose in there, and we could shoot at 'em with the guns from the museum."
       "Yeah, we got a couple, but then they let us turn the dogs on 'em," Kyle said. "You should have seen Brian with those dogs. They were listening to him like they were Trixie and Krewe, or something. He made 'em bite those guys' throats. It was awesome."
       "How was it really?" I asked.
       "It was okay, but we've seen better. Probably a four on a ten scale," Brian said. "You didn't miss much."
       "Thank you, Brian," I said, and he grinned.
       "How are you feeling?" Brian asked Sean.
       "I'm a lot better," Sean said. "I feel clean, for one thing. And I don't hurt as much."
       "Who wants a drink before we go out to eat?" Kyle asked. "The usuals?"
       "Just Coke for me," Sean said.
       * * *
       We took Stan Parker out to eat with us that night. We went to the Outback Steakhouse. Again. The boys loved that place, and the food was consistently good, if rather boring. But when you've got seven teenage boys to feed, you can't do better than the Outback.
       "Let's get one of every appetizer and share," Kyle suggested. "I didn't have any lunch today, and I'm hungry as a bear."
       "You can skip a meal now and then. It might help you out a little bit. You're a little bit fat, Kyle," Justin said.
       "Seven percent body fat, Bubba. What's yours?" Kyle demanded.
       "I dunno," Justin said. "How the hell would I know that?"
       "Get it measured," Kyle said.
       "Kyle, I think Justin was teasing you about being fat," Kevin said. "You're not fat, Bubba."
       "I know he was, Kevin, but that's something I monitor closely. When you look at my parents, you know I'm not going to be fat genetically," Kyle said.
       "Let's stop talking about being fat," Murray said.
       "Bubba, you ain't fat anymore. How much have you lost?" Kyle asked.
       "Thirty-five pounds. Five more to go," Murray said.
       "Man, that is fucking fantastic," Kyle said. "I am so damn proud of you, I can't stand it."
       "That's wonderful, Murray," Kevin said.
       Murray was grinning his ass off, too. He was very proud of himself, and he had reason to be. I was also proud of the other boys, too, though. They had supported and encouraged their brother throughout his weight loss, and he had come through like a champion.
       "Murray, I'm just as proud of you as I can be, too, but here's the real test," Justin said. "When you stand at a urinal, can you glance down and see your dick?"
       "Yes. Now I can," Murray said.
       "All right, Bubba," Justin said. "That's the main thing."
       "You had a weight problem?" Stan asked.
       Stan was a very nice guy, and he was smart, too. I'm glad Kyle suggested we take him out to dinner, both because he was fun and because I figured Kevin would want to get to know him. He had gone through the same Hospitality Administration degree program we had gone through, and I figured he was probably wasting his time as restaurant manager at that hotel. I mean, it was a nice hotel and all, but the route to top management in the hotel industry demanded sales experience. He wasn't getting any of that where he was.
       "I have a weight problem," Murray said, "and it's something I'm going to have to watch for the rest of my life. Unlike Kyle, I didn't get 'thin' genes. Stan, you would not believe how supportive these boys have been."
       "I don't want to hear any more about us. We had it to do, and you had it to do. And you've almost done it. We're all so proud of you, but you did it, man. Not us," Kyle said.
       "Stan, what Kyle and the others won't take credit for is the support they've given me. Here's an example of what I mean. One time we were going to visit my grandmother early on a Saturday morning. They pulled into Burger King for sausage biscuits. While Kyle got their order, Justin literally ran across a parking lot into a grocery store to buy fruit and yogurt for me. That's not all that much, I know, but he thought of it, not me. And every day they could, they've worked out with me in the weight room. I've lost a lot of weight, but I've also gained a lot of muscle because of them," Murray said.
       Murray had huge tears in his eyes. Everybody at the table was very quiet, and I was so proud of my sons that I got tears in my eyes, too. I looked at Kevin, and he was in the same state I was.
       "At least one of them, but usually several of them, have gone to the Weight Watchers meeting with me every single week. I hated myself so bad before I came here, I can't even tell you, Stan. I was a total freak. I was fat. I was ugly. I was gay. I was a sissy, which I still am, but maybe not as bad. I had never voluntarily played sports in my life. But none of that mattered to them. I love these guys," Murray said.
       "Yeah, but let's get the good stuff out, too, Murray," Justin said. "You're smart, you're kind, you're funny, and I, for one, don't think you're ugly. Plus, you've got a steel rod for a spine, man, and I would trust you with my life. And since when is being gay bad? You ain't going to find much agreement at this table with that. I'm proud for you to be my brother, Murray, and I mean that."
       "Can I please join this family?" Stan said.
       He said that for comic effect, but I figured there was at least some seriousness in it, too. It got a short chuckle from everybody, but he probably could benefit from being with us a while.
       "Stan, here's my card," Kevin said. "I'd like for you to call me if you're at all interested in possibly relocating to Emerald Beach. I run eleven hotels and motels, and I'm always looking for management people."
       Stan's eyes got very bright just then. He looked at Kyle.
       "I told you this was probably your lucky day," Kyle said.
       They came around with dessert just then, and everybody but Kyle and Murray ordered one. Kyle's dessert was a cup of coffee, but he did have a cigarette when the others lit up. I knew that was his first in a long time.
       "Do you want a smoke, Murray?" Sean asked.
       "No, thanks. I stopped doing that. I could never figure out how to hold those things without Justin getting on me. It's not worth it," Murray said.
       Justin and Kyle laughed, so I figured it was an inside joke for them.
       Sean had been very quiet all through dinner, and I knew he was hurting physically and psychologically. I was sure he was also embarrassed over what had happened on the trip, and I knew we were going to have a long row to hoe with him when we got home.
       We left the restaurant at 10:30. We said goodbye to Stan in the parking lot, thanking him for his help that day and reminding him to call Kevin.
       "Don't stay up too late, guys. We're leaving at eight o'clock in the morning," Kevin said. "And, Sean, don't dare take a drink tonight, you hear me? You're on that medicine, and you can't drink."
       "Yes, sir," Sean said. That was the first time I had ever heard him use the word "sir." Maybe that meant something.
       * * *
       We got off on the trip home by 8:15. We had a good breakfast at the breakfast bar at the hotel, settled up at the desk, and were on our way home to Emerald Beach. We had had a fantastic time, but we had also had the worst crisis in our family history on that trip, except for the time we almost lost Brian.
       The guys disappeared when we got home. I knew they were busy checking phone messages, checking emails, and doing homework. Kyle had some kind of meeting, too. We all went to the six o'clock Mass that night, and then we had our final meal of the weekend at the Pelican after church.
       "That was quite a trip, wasn't it?" Kevin said, when he and I were in bed for the night.
       "Yes it was," I said. "Can you believe how wonderful our kids are? Well, most of them, anyway."
       "Sean's wonderful, too, in his own way. We just have to be patient about discovering it," Kevin said.
       "God, I love you," I said.

Chapter 23

(Kyle's Perspective)
       "We don't have time this morning, but I promise you tonight is going to be paradise," I said to Tim when we woke up. "I'll let you fuck me."
       "Let me? You love it when you're the bottom," Tim said.
       "I know. That's why I'm going to let you do it tonight," I said.
       He was laughing so hard, he could hardly talk. Tim and I liked variety in our sex life. I know there were probably some guys who fucked each other every time they made love, but we only did it that way once or twice a week. There were lots of other ways to make each other feel good, and we did 'em all.
       "I can't believe you," he said, still laughing hard.
       "I don't know what you think is so damn funny, but I'm in a rush this morning," I said.
       "Are you going to eat breakfast with us?" he asked.
       "Yeah," I said. "If I can get it cooked."
       I wasn't really in so much of a rush that morning as I was nervous about what I had to do that day. That was the day I was going to plan the wedding.
       "Go cook," Tim said, and I went downstairs and did just that.
       I put the meat in the oven and cooked up three pans of eggs I scrambled the night before. Those were real eggs. Not that shit you poured out of cartons. If I was cooking breakfast, it was going to be the real thing. I had set up two packages of pre-cooked bacon and two packages of pre-cooked link sausages. I put a package of pre-cooked country ham on the cookie sheet, too. I did a pan of twenty-four biscuits. Those biscuits came frozen, but I had learned through experience that you could cook 'em much faster if they were defrosted.
       "This is a really good breakfast, Kyle," Justin said. "Thank you for making it for us. I just wish we had some gravy for these wonderful biscuits."
       "I'll cook you some real soon, Bubba," I said. "I know you love it, but I cook the meat in the oven on school mornings, and you can't make gravy in the oven."
       "I know you can't. I'm just griping to gripe. I probably ought to be thankful I've got something to eat," Jus said.
       I wished he didn't say shit like that. I knew him and Denny had had days when they hadn't had anything at all to eat, and that just about tore me up every time I thought about it. Still, that was part of their lives, and it wasn't something I could do anything about. The thought of my brothers being hungry, and not really knowing if they were going to ever get a next meal, almost made me cry every time it came to mind.
       * * *
       After my ten o'clock class, I had an appointment with a lady named Madeline at the Laguna Beach Hotel. That was where the wedding was going to be, and we had to get busy working on that sucker. It was already the last week of October, and December 26th would be here before we knew it. I had reserved the room the day after the guys got engaged, and they didn't even make me put down a deposit. Now this Madeline lady was going to help me get it organized.
       "Did you make any progress on the menu?" she asked, after we had said the usual "hello" things.
       "Yes, ma'am. I got it right here," I said.
       She had given me a printed menu and price list, and I had sat down with the four guys and decided what they wanted to serve. It was going to be very, very nice. My mama had just about said she'd cut my balls off and hang 'em around her neck on a chain, if it wasn't. She didn't say that word-for-word because she didn't talk like that, but that's what she meant.
       The first part of it was going to be the ceremony out back on the beach. They had a nice gazebo out there that was really pretty big. In fact, in the summer, they used that for a band and dancing. If it was cold or rainy on December 26th, we were fucked, and the ceremony itself would have to be inside. But more than likely, it wouldn't be cold. Probably in the high 50's or low 60's. It was scheduled for 4:30 in the afternoon, so it was going to be a sunset wedding. I thought that would be very beautiful, if the weather cooperated. Thanks to Father Jerry, we had the bases covered on the ceremony. It was the reception that I was worried about.
       I knew that in a lot of places they had a sit-down dinner for a wedding, but that wasn't the way we did it in the South. There was a big sit-down dinner after the rehearsal, called the Rehearsal Dinner, but the party after the wedding was a reception, sort of like a big cocktail party with tons of food. Traditionally, the groom's parents paid for the Rehearsal Dinner and the bride's parents paid for the Wedding Reception. But guess what? No bride in this one. My parents were going to pay for the reception, and Ty's parents were going to pay for the Rehearsal Dinner, which was going to be at our house on Christmas Eve. It was going to be fully catered, and, fortunately, I didn't have to fool with it.
       "This looks excellent, Kyle," she said, when she scanned the menu items we had selected. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you involved in this?"
       "No, I don't mind. I'm involved for several reasons. First, I love doing this kind of thing. Second, it's good practice for when I take over your job."
       She got this real worried look on her face, but I was just teasing her.
       "I'm teasing you. I'm not taking your job. I want Rooney's job," I said, laughing.
       "Phew! You had me worried there," she said, after she relaxed and realized I was bullshitting about all of that.
       "I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," I said. "I do want to work here one of these days, though, as more than a bellhop, but that's going to be in a very long time. There's also a third reason I'm involved. My brother is one of the ones getting married, and my parents are paying for it."
       She got another stricken look on her face.
       "I didn't realize this was a Goodson family wedding," she said.
       "Yeah. There's no way you could have known. Jeff Martin is one of the grooms, and he was my real brother's life partner before my brother died. So I guess you'd really say Jeff is my brother-in-law, sort of. Anyway, that's the real reason I'm doing it," I said.
       "Oh, I know Jeff," she said. "He's a part-time desk clerk, isn't he?" she asked.
       "Yeah. You probably know every one of 'em," I said. "Jeff's marrying Tyler Jones, one of the bellhops. The other two are Chuck Jackson, who works in sales, and Tony Miller, who is the head of Information Services for the company."
       "Oh, my gosh! That sort of changes things, doesn't it?" she asked.
       "Why would that change anything?" I asked.
       "It sort of kicks it up a few notches in importance around here," she said. "Kyle, I'm going to make a recommendation, and I hope you're not offended by it. I'm going to recommend that you hire a Wedding Planner."
       I had seen a very funny movie about a wedding planner, and I had a vision of this little fairy in a Tinkerbell suit swishing around the place. I didn't know if I liked that idea.
       "I thought you were the Wedding Planner," I said.
       "Well, actually, I'm a salesperson for the hotel, and my specialty is weddings. That's true. But I handle the food and beverage end of it. There are a million other details that have to be taken into consideration. I know a woman who is very experienced and who has the best of taste. I don't know what she will charge, but I'm pretty sure it will be worth it for something of this scale," she said.
       "You're not offending me one bit. That's just somebody else I can learn from," I said.
       "Well, I suspect you'll learn a lot from her. If she's even available, that is," Madeline said.
       "Can you call her and find out if she'll do it?" I asked.
       "Absolutely," she said, and she got busy on the phone.
       That lady's name was Thelma something, and she was available. Madeline let it drop that it was a double gay wedding and that Gene Goodson's ex-son-in-law was one of the grooms.
       "I thought that would add to your enthusiasm," Madeline said to her.
       Pause.
       "Mr. Goodson's son, Kyle, is handling everything," Madeline said.
       Pause.
       "I know," Madeline said in a knowing tone of voice. I wasn't sure I liked that.
       Pause.
       "Wait till you meet him. But no cradle-robbing," Madeline said, and then she laughed and looked me in the face.
       If she was talking about robbing me out of the cradle, I had news for her. I didn't say anything, though. Madeline hung up.
       "She's very excited about doing it, Kyle. She wants a meeting with you, me, and the four grooms as soon as possible. Evenings are fine," Madeline said.
       "How about tonight?" I asked.
       "That's a little premature. She has some checklists and 'talking points' that she's faxing me. You and the grooms need to go over those to prepare for the meeting. I'm sure that material will be here in a few minutes, and you can give it to the guys to look at. Kyle, Thelma is a first-rate professional, and I know you won't be disappointed," Madeline said.
       "What's it going to cost?" I asked. I really didn't care, but I thought I should ask.
       She got this kind of pained look on her face.
       "Six thousand," she said, sort of doing her mouth funny. "But it's a double wedding, remember."
       "Shit, that ain't nothing," I grumbled out without thinking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say 'shit,'" I said, saying it again, like the dumb fuck I was.
       She laughed pretty hard at that.
       "Kyle, I wish you were ten years older. I'd never let you get away," she said.
       I kind of laughed a little bit.
       "I'm taken," I said.
       "I'm not one bit surprised," she said.
       Yeah, but you might be surprised if you knew who I was taken by, I thought. I didn't say anything, though.
       "Well, what do we do next?" I asked.
       "Let me see if that fax is here yet," she said.
       She got up to go check on the fax. In about five minutes she came back with five copies of the material for me and one copy for her, too. That damn thing was six pages long, and I knew there was no way on God's green earth I could have come up with six pages of anything about a wedding. I noticed a good bit of it had to do with the bride, though, so maybe it wasn't going to be all that bad. I did notice something about the bachelor party not being the night before the wedding, and that reminded me that was something else I needed to get on. I thought maybe Kevin and Rick could be in charge of that.
       * * *
       I didn't waste any time getting those papers to the guys. Chuck, Jeff, and Tyler were right there in the building. In fact, they were all having lunch in the employees' room, and ole Tony was there with them.
       "Hey, Bubba," Tony said. He was the first one to see me. "What are you doing here?"
       "I came to have lunch with my boys," I said.
       "Go get you a plate," Chuck said.
       "Okay," I said.
       I went into the kitchen where the employees' line was, and, of course, I had to say hello to all my buddies in the kitchen. Say what you will about work being hell, and all, but you develop friendships with people you work with. I got me a good plate of food, and I took it back into the break room where the rest of them were.
       "What brings you to the Laguna?" Jeff asked.
       "Planning y'all's wedding, that's what," I said.
       "Oh, you didn't know we called it off?" Chuck said.
       If I hadn't had me a good bowel movement that morning, I would have let go right then. That would have forced a stench-evacuation of that place. I'm sure the shock was all over my face.
       "When did this happen?" I asked. I was about ready to cry.
       "When I figured out how to get you last," Chuck said.
       "Goddamn it, Chuck!" I said. "You cocksucker!"
       "Shhh. Not everybody knows about me," Chuck whispered.
       They all were laughing their asses off. I knew it was funny, but I was a little too stunned to laugh, yet. Finally, I did.
       "Chuck, that's about the best anybody has ever gotten me. If I had a cap on, I'd take it off to you, son," I said.
       "You do have a cap on, Kyle," Chuck said.
       "Oh. Sorry," I said, and I went to take my cap off.
       I wore 'em so much, I couldn't really tell when I did or didn't have one on, but I almost never wore one at the table. I knew it wasn't polite, but my cap was in the car. I had taken it off to meet with Madeline. I must have looked like a total dumbass trying to take off a cap I wasn't even wearing. And they all laughed when they saw me do it, too.
       "All right, Chuck. You got me last, Bubba. Again. Just beware," I said.
       "It was a risk, but it was worth it," Chuck said. "You take your opportunities where you find them."
       "Jeff, protect me from any more 'got you last' things, okay?" I said.
       "No," Jeff said, and everybody laughed.
       "Here I've been working my balls off for you guys all morning, and that's the thanks I get," I said.
       "Working your balls off with Madeline? That wouldn't be hard to take," Chuck said.
       "I know. Don't you wish she was a guy?" I said. "She told me if I was ten years older she'd be after me. She's hot, all right."
       "How would you know?" Jeff asked.
       "The same damn way you'd know, Bubba," I said.
       Jeff blushed up a storm, and everybody laughed at him.
       "Just because we're gay doesn't mean we don't know what a hot girl looks like," I said.
       "Very true," Chuck said, and Tony swatted his arm. They both laughed.
       "Y'all leave me alone so I can eat," I said.
       They had mostly finished, but I hadn't even started eating yet. I didn't know if there were four better guys on earth than those four. Jeff was my favorite, of course, but the other three were right next to him in my heart.
       "Okay, here's the deal," I said between bites. "We got us a Wedding Planner, and we need that. It's a lady named Thelma. I don't know her last name. I missed it, if Madeline even said it. She faxed us this shit, and the five of us need to go over it before we meet with her. She's the boss of this thing from now on. She bosses me, and I boss you four. You got the chain of command?"
       "Yes, sir, Bubba," Jeff said, grinning.
       "Jeff, y'all might think this is a pain in the ass, but I'm accountable to my parents for this. And y'all all know why," I said.
       "We know, and we're all very appreciative, Kyle. We're not going to stop teasing you, though," Chuck said.
       "If y'all ever stop teasing me, that's the end of our relationship," I said.
       "Well, we won't," Chuck said. "Er, Kyle . . . wipe your nose. It's really, er . . . pretty gross."
       He said that so serious and straight that I thought I had me a big hairy booger hanging out of my nose. I got my paper napkin up to it right away. There was nothing on the napkin when I looked at it in my lap. God almighty! Did I knock it into my plate? Ewww.
       "That's much better," Chuck said.
       They were all laughing so I knew something was up.
       "Your nose isn't nearly so shiny now, Kyle. Got you last," Chuck said, and they all laughed.
       I was going to get him back, by God. I used my best acting skills.
       "I don't know why y'all have been picking on me so bad today. All I care about is getting your wedding organized so it'll be a happy day for all four of you, but all y'all care about is getting me last and all that shit," I said. My voice was trembling, and I knew I sounded like I was about to cry.
       "Bubba, we were teasing you," Chuck said. "Please don't be that way, Kyle. We love you, man. You know that."
       He had been the biggest culprit that day, and he knew it. I knew it was all in fun, and that's the way I had taken it. He most reminded me of Rick: friendly, likeable, good natured, kindhearted, without a ruthless bone in his body. He was an all-around good guy, but he was fixing to get it.
       "I thought you guys liked me," I said.
       "We do. We love you, Kyle," Chuck said.
       "Kyle, I have to get back to work. Say it and get it over with," Jeff said.
       I looked at Jeff, and he looked at me. I couldn't keep it going any more. I busted up laughing, and so did he.
       "Goddamn it, Kyle," Chuck said. "I hate you, you little shithead."
       "You ain't playing Got You Last with an amateur," I said.
       "I can see that," Chuck said. "That's the best I've ever seen."
       "Oh-ho, no, Chuck. I've seen much better and much longer," Jeff said. "I really do need to go. Kyle, do you want to come over tonight to go over that stuff?"
       "Yeah. What time?" I asked.
       "Seven o'clock," Jeff said. "And you really are a little shithead. But we love you."
       I knew those four guys loved me, and I damn sure loved them. I loved Jeff so bad sometimes it hurt. It was totally non-sexual on my part, and I figured it was on his part, too. Jeff was my brother Clay to me, and there was no sex or incest involved in that, I can guarantee it. Clay was my idol, and Jeff was my idol, too, because he had belonged to Clay. I was so glad to be involved in his wedding to Tyler I could bust.
       "Here. Y'all take a copy so y'all can look at it," I said, handing a copy of the papers to each one of them.
       "Okay. I might have some time between now and then," Jeff said.
       I went over to their house that night, and we got a lot of decisions made. There was a special list of questions for double weddings that I guess people having single weddings didn't have to worry about. For instance, one wedding cake or two? One groom's cake, two groom's cakes, or, in their case, four groom's cakes? They decided on two and two. We met with Madeline and Thelma a couple of nights later, and I felt really good that everything about the wedding was going to be really nice. The wording of the wedding invitation took a while to get right, but we eventually did. They were going to be engraved, instead of printed, but that was on my mother's instructions. Thelma was going to take care of that. I didn't know what the difference was.
       "I think this is going to be good," I said, after we met with Madeline and Thelma.
       Chuck wanted to talk to me when we were leaving the hotel that night.
       "Kyle, if I hurt your feelings the other day, I'm really sorry about that, man," he said. "I never intended to do that. I love you, and we all love you."
       "What are you talking about?" I asked.
       "At lunch the other day. I was pretty harsh on you, and I didn't mean to be. I'm sorry if you took offense," he said.
       I had a hard time remembering what the hell he was talking about. Then I remembered it was lunch the day before yesterday.
       "Shit. That wasn't nothing, man. Do you want to be my brother?" I asked.
       "Yeah. Of course I do," Chuck said.
       "Well, then, you're going to have to keep that shit up, and I am, too. That's what I expect out of my brothers, man, and I hope you expect the same thing out of me," I said.
       "See?" Jeff said.
       Chuck reached up and flicked the bill of my baseball cap.
       "Just don't ever do that again. Don't ever touch my cap again. Them's fighting words, Chuck," I said.
       Jeff took my cap off my head and threw it across the parking lot. It went off like a Frisbee.
       "Unless your name is Jeffrey Martin, I reckon. Now, go get it, Jeff," I said.
       "No," Jeff said.
       I knew that was what he was going to say, but Jeff also knew all that cap stuff was pure bullshit. He was letting those guys know that there wasn't anything they could do to piss me off. Really. And I appreciated that.
       "I'm letting it go this time, Jeff. I've got about thirty more caps at home. I don't need that one, even though it was my favorite," I said.
       Jeff took off to get my cap, which really wasn't that far away. He handed it back to me, and I put it on my head.
       "Kyle, the four of us are your big brothers, man," Jeff said.
       "Like four Clays?" I asked.
       "Exactly, Kyle. Only he's not here for you anymore, but we are. We're not Clay. Nobody could be Clay but Clay, but we can still be your older brothers, Kyle," Jeff said.
       "I still miss him so bad, Jeff," I said.
       "I know you do, Kyle, and I do, too. But I've found a new love, and I know you love Tyler," Jeff said.
       "Tyler's the best, Jeff. I'm just glad you didn't have to choose between him and Clay," I said.
       "Me, too, because I couldn't have done it. Thank you so much for being so good to us. All four of us," Jeff said.
       "It's my gift to you, you know," I said.
       "Yeah, I figured that. Thank you, my brother," he said.
       "I want to thank y'all for being my big brothers, but I come with a package, you know?"
       "Absolutely. We know. Tim, Justin, and Brian, right?" he said.
       "That's exactly right. I don't go nowhere without those three, especially Tim," I said.
       "Do you ever think about what the future's going to hold for you and Tim?" he asked.
       "Yeah, I think about that a good bit," I said. "But that's a long way off, man. I mean, think about it. Tim wants to be a doctor, and Brian does, too. That's four years after college. Minimum. Then they have to do residencies. That's another three to five years. I can see myself living away from here for thirteen years, easy. We'll be back here a lot, of course, but to work here? That's a damn long time. There's no question in my mind that Tim and I will still be together, and I feel sure Justin and Brian will still be together, too. But that's a long time," I said.
       "Do you feel a lot of pressure because of the business?" Jeff asked.
       "Not really. In thirteen years my daddy will be fifty-six or fifty-seven. Kevin and Rick will be forty. That's not really all that old at all. I know we joke about how old they are, but forty isn't really all that old," I said.
       "I know. Are you okay with the Townhouse Boys?" Jeff said.
       "I'm totally okay with you guys," I said. That was it for that night.
       I tended to think of the Townhouse Boys as a family, but it was really two couples who happened to be best friends. I tended to think of Tim, Justin, Brian, and me as a family, too, but we were just two couples, too. In my mind, all ten of us, including Kevin and Rick, would spend the rest of our lives together as a very close-knit family, but I also knew that wasn't necessarily so. I was real happy for the Townhouse Boys because they were so happy. I prayed to God every day that what He had brought together by chance would stay together.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       "So, what do we do about Sean?" Rick asked the night we got home from St. Augustine.
       Sean had been pretty much the only topic of conversation between us since the beating happened, and we still didn't know what to do. Rick and I were in the den at home that night. Most of the boys were studying or shooting pool or something, but Kyle was at some kind of meeting for his frat. He hadn't even gone to church with us. He came home just then.
       "Hey! What's up?" Kyle asked, when he came into the room.
       "Not much. What's up with you?" Rick asked.
       "This meeting tonight was about the Ironman that's coming up. Guys, I can read your faces like a book. You're worried about something," Kyle said.
       "Yeah, we are, Kyle. We're very worried about Sean," I said.
       "Well, you should be. He's bad news," Kyle said.
       "What do you mean by that?" Rick asked.
       "That beating he took in St. Augustine. I warned him about that. Rick and Kevin, that boy's out of control," Kyle said.
       "I know you won't say anything he told you in confidence, but you can't withhold something that's life-threatening," I said. "That would be immoral, Kyle."
       "I know, Kevin. I know what's moral and immoral, man. Gimme a fucking break, okay, Kevin?" Kyle said.
       "Calm down. I know you do, man. I'm sorry I said that, Kyle. What's going on with him that you can say?"
       "He wants to see a counselor. I know that much," Kyle said. "He told me I could tell you that. I think he's deeply fucked up. I dunno for sure, but I think he's got some real problems with his parents."
       "Those bastards have basically written him off," Rick said.
       "I think they're both doctors, but they teach at a college," Kyle said. "They don't see patients anymore."
       "They're both Ph.D.'s, not M.D.'s," Rick said.
       "Okay. I know what that means," he said. "I don't think they like Sean very much, though."
       "I know. They haven't had any contact with him since he came here, and that's been--what? Two months?" Rick said. "And they missed his birthday."
       "About that long," I said. "I think I'll call Tyrone Williams tomorrow to see who he might recommend as a counselor."
       "Call Jerry Taylor, too," Rick said. "He might know somebody."

(Denny's Perspective)
       I have a lot of friends at school, mainly through debate and speech activities, but there is one boy--John Harrelson--who really fascinates me. He is a sophomore, like me, and he is probably the smartest guy in the sophomore class. I’m trying to take as many AP courses as I can, and he is, too. The difference is, I have to work my tail off to make A's, whereas John seems to be able to do that without much effort. When everybody is panicking about a test or some big project, John just seems to chill out and not worry about it. Of course, he always makes A's on everything.
       John is also one of the best looking guys in the sophomore class. He is about five-nine, has beautiful brown hair and eyes, and he has an average build, pretty much like me. He’s very competitive in debate, but he doesn't go out for sports of any kind. He wears nice clothes, and he seems to be well liked by everybody. He is just a nice, nice guy.
       "Denny, is it true that you live in a house full of gay guys?" John asked me one afternoon after school. He and I were in the library working on--what else?--debate.
       "Yeah, it's true," I said.
       "Don't you feel weird and out of place there?" he asked.
       "Not at all. We're like a big family. I'm closer to some than to others, but we all consider ourselves brothers," I said.
       "Do any of them ever try to come on to you?"
       "Nope," I said. If only they would, I thought.
       "I think I would find that weird," he said.
       "They're just normal, everyday guys," I said. "One guy is pretty effeminate, but he's as nice and sweet as he can be. Nobody rags him about it. And he's lost a ton of weight, recently, too."
       "Is it that Murray kid?" he asked.
       "Yeah. Do you know him?"
       "He's on the team, or didn't you know that?" he said.
       "Of course, I knew it. He's a sophomore, but he's a novice this year," I said. "I don't know how good he is, though. I've never seen him debate."
       "I've worked with him and his partner once or twice, and he's not bad. Getting back to where you live, is everybody there gay?" he asked.
       I smiled at him.
       "Yes, including me," I said. "Does that bother you?"
       "No. Not at all. How did you know you're gay?" he asked.
       "I'm not really sure it was just one thing. I always felt different from other guys. I grew up in Blountstown, Florida, which is a little hick town near here. I totally didn't fit in with all the redneck guys there. All they were interested in was hunting, fishing, football, and pussy, more or less in that order. I came from a very poor family, and I couldn't have participated in those activities, even if I was interested. I actually did a good bit of fishing in the summer with a cane pole, but that was to get food, not for sport. When I was around twelve, I started puberty, and that's when I started noticing guys all the time. I couldn't keep my eyes off them. I did as much reading about being gay as I could, and I decided I'm gay," I said.
       "Do your parents know?"
       "I don't really have parents, except for Kevin and Rick. They're the guys who run our home," I said.
       "When you were noticing the guys, what would happen? Anything?" he asked.
       He was getting a little more personal than I thought normal curiosity would have dictated, but he was so incredibly cute I decided to answer his questions. I also thought he might be trying to work out his own sexual orientation, and I figured it was pretty brave of him to even ask me these questions.
       "What do you think happened?" I asked.
       He lowered his voice. "Did you get, like, an erection or something?" he asked in a pained voice.
       "Yeah. Often I did. I still do, in fact," I said. "What about yourself? Do you notice guys?"
       "Yes," he whispered.
       "Do you masturbate and think about guys?" I asked.
       "Not so loud," he whispered again. "And, yes, I do."
       "Do you think you might be gay?" I asked, very softly.
       He already had big tears in his eyes, and they started streaming down his face.
       "Yes," he whispered, "and I'm scared to death. I'm supposed to be a good kid, and all I can think about is naked guys and guys having sex with each other. We have Net Nanny on our computer at home, but I figured out how to get around that thing. I spend a lot of time on the Internet looking at gay porn, and I'm so ashamed of myself. Sometimes I wish I were dead."
       "Where do you live?" I asked.
       "About a mile from here, on Appleyard Court. Why?"
       "I'll walk you home, and that way maybe we can talk more freely outside," I said.
       "Okay," he said. "Denny, please don't tell anybody I told you all of this. He would kill me if he ever found out about it."
       "I won't, but who would kill you? Your father?"
       "Yes. I mean, he wouldn't literally kill me, but I can only imagine the mess I would be in," he said.
       "I won't tell anybody. Come on. Let's go," I said.
       Once we were outside the building, I used my cell phone to call Tim to tell him what I was doing. He was supposed to pick me up at 4:30, and I didn't want him to come all the way to school and me not be there.
       * * *
       We had to walk past a Burger King on the way to John's house.
       "Do you want to stop for a snack?" I asked.
       "Yeah, but I don't have enough money," he said. "I don't think they'll take a credit card."
       "I have money," I said.
       We ordered and took a seat at the back of the mostly-deserted restaurant. I had had a big lunch, but I was always hungry at that time of day. Evidently, John was the same way.
       "Do you know how Dairy Queen got pregnant?" he asked.
       "No. How?" I knew this was a joke.
       "Burger King couldn't handle his whopper," he said.
       I thought that was pretty funny, and I laughed. I could tell he liked the fact that I liked his joke.
       "I'm going to tell that one to my brothers," I said. "Some of those guys are hilarious and keep us in stitches, but I don't usually have much funny stuff to say. Thanks for telling me that one."
       He got serious again pretty quick.
       "Denny, if I'm gay, what am I going to do? I just can't be gay. God wouldn't have done that to me," he said.
       "Yes, you can be. I mean, I'm not saying you are, but if you are, you can be happy being a gay guy. I am, and everybody in my house is. There are nine of us there right now, and we also have a ton of gay friends. I mean, everybody gets pissed off sometimes and depressed and has bad days, but it's a very happy atmosphere in the house. There's real love there. You need to spend some time with us so you can see that," I said.
       "What about sex?" he whispered.
       He looked around and saw that we were the only people in the place, but he still kept his voice really low.
       "What about it?" I asked.
       "Have you ever had sex?" he asked. He spoke so low I could barely hear him.
       I nodded.
       "Up the butt?" he asked, again barely audibly.
       "No. Not that way," I whispered back.
       "Would you ever do that?" he asked.
       "I probably would. I know some of my brothers do it that way, and, the way I figure it, they wouldn't do it if it weren't good," I said.
       "I'm going to ask you something really personal right now, and I hope you don't mind," he said.
       Oh, I thought, a personal question for a change. Then I felt kind of bad for thinking that. This was probably the first time he had ever had a chance to talk with a gay guy about things like this.
       "What is it?" I asked.
       "Do you have an erection right now?"
       "Yes. And I had one back at school, too," I said. "Do you?"
       "Yes. I've had one since we first started talking in the media center," he said.
       "I noticed," I said.
       "You did?" He seemed horrified.
       "Yeah. I'm gay. I check out stuff like that. Although I think some straight guys do, too," I said. "And I know girls do."
       "Denny, I haven't been totally honest with you. I don't just think I'm gay. I know I'm gay," he said.
       I got a big grin on my face.
       "What?" he asked.
       "Congratulations. You just came out of the closet," I said.
       He chuckled.
       "Now I can write my 'coming out' story for comingoutstories dot com. I've read every one on that Web site," he said.
       "I wouldn't do that just yet. I've read a bunch of those, too, and I think maybe you have a long way to go with coming out," I said.
       We were both quiet for a while, finishing our burgers and fries.
       "Denny, I feel so good right now," he said. "Thank you for talking to me. Would you like to maybe have a date with me sometime?"
       God, YES! I thought.
       "I sort of considered this, like, maybe our first date, John," I said.
       He grinned so hard when I said that, that I thought he was going to tear his cheeks open.
       "Me, too. I really like you," he said, and he blushed.
       "I like you, too," I said.
       I glanced at my watch, and it was already 5:30. I knew most of the others were already home, and I knew they were probably wondering where I was. I decided to call Tim to see if he would be willing to come get us. It was already dark, and there were several more tables of people in there then. I dialed Tim's number, and Kyle answered.
       "Hello," Kyle said.
       "Kyle?"
       "Yeah. Who's this? Denny?"
       "Yeah. May I speak to Tim, please?"
       "What do you want? He's been in the bathroom for twenty minutes taking a shit. I think maybe he fell in," Kyle said.
       "Could somebody come pick me up?"
       "Yeah. Where are you?"
       "I'm at the Burger King on Front Beach Road," I said.
       "What are you doing there?"
       "I had a date this afternoon after school," I said. "We walked here from school and lost track of time."
       John was grinning about me saying we had a date.
       "Way to go, Bubba! I'll come get you. What about your guy? Does he need a ride, too?" Kyle asked.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "No problem. I'm proud of you, Denny," Kyle said. "I'll be there in ten."
       "Kyle, this is John Harrelson," I said. "John, this is Kyle Goodson, my brother." I introduced them when Kyle got there.
       "Are you related to Stuart Harrelson? Is he your brother?" Kyle asked.
       "He's my cousin," John said.
       "If that's the case then you must be good people, John. Me and ole Stuart go all the way back to Cub Scouts, and he's a good ole boy, that's for sure," Kyle said.
       "Is he gay, too?" John mouthed to me about Kyle, and I nodded. "Wow!" he mouthed back. We were in the middle seat of Kyle's truck.
       "What's Stuart doing now? He went to Ole Miss, didn't he?" Kyle asked. "Is he still there?"
       "Yeah," John said.
       "Is he playing football? He went there to play football, didn't he?" Kyle asked. "I need to follow that team better than I do. I consider Stuart Harrelson a very good friend."
       "Yeah. Stuart's still playing football. My brother is Buddy Harrelson," John said. "Do you know him?"
       "Well, I know of Buddy, but I don't really know him. He was a senior when I was a freshman. What's he doing?"
       "He's at Florida. We think he's going to vet school next year," John said.
       "We need to hook ole Buddy up with Brian, don't you think, Denny?" Kyle said.
       "Yeah, probably," I responded to Kyle. "He's talking about Brian Mathews. He's another one of our brothers, and he loves animals, especially dogs." I said to John.
       "You're kidding. That guy is awesome," John said.
       "I know," I said.
       When we got to John's house, Kyle said, "Y'all can kiss each other goodbye. I won't look."
       "KYLE!!!!!" I said.
       "What? You know you want to kiss him. Do it, Bubba. Nobody gives a shit," Kyle said.
       I really did want to kiss John, so I laid a little peck on his lips.
       I could tell by the look on his face that John was an extremely happy boy, and so was I.
       I walked up to John's front door with him. When I got back to the truck, I started to get into the middle seat.
       "Come sit up here with me, Denny. What is this with sitting in the back, man?" Kyle asked.
       I did what he said. "Thanks for coming to get us," I said to Kyle.
       "No problem. Let me tell you something, Denny. That boy right there is quality people. First rate. I know a bunch of the Harrelsons, and you won't find much better than that. That's for sure. They have that big ole hardware store and lumber yard out on the Parkway. That's the best hardware store and lumber yard in the county.
       "Let me tell you a little story. Two, really. A couple of years ago, I was trying to buy some two-by-fours to build a booth for Homecoming. I needed eighteen of 'em. I was told I could get 'em a lot cheaper at Lowe's or Home Depot or Scotty's or someplace like that in town. The way they did it was you paid for what you wanted at the register in the store and then drove around to the lumber yard to pick up the goods.
       "I told the girl at the register what I wanted, and she told me they didn't carry those. Now, can you imagine a lumber yard not carrying two-by-fours? I couldn't. I told her to look it up on the computer, and they didn't have but 15,000 of 'em in stock. So I paid for 'em and drove around to pick 'em up. They had 'em all right, but every one of 'em looked like a fucking snake. They were all bent and twisted and full of knots. I thought, shit, I'm not buying this crap.
       "I got my money back. Then I went to Harrelson Hardware. I told the man what I wanted and what I was going to do with 'em, and he showed me wood that was just as straight and true as your hard-on. They were a dollar apiece more than the ones in town. Sure, I paid $18 dollars more for 'em, but surprise, surprise! You could actually work with 'em, and almost knot free.
       "I don't exactly know what the point of this story is except that the Harrelsons are good people, and they've got good, straight lumber. Probably good, straight dicks, too."
       I laughed so hard when he said that last line that I almost wet my pants. He laughed at his own humor, too.
       "You're incredible," I said, still laughing.
       "I ain't incredible. That's a true story," Kyle said. "Why would I lie about shit like that?"
       "That's not what I meant," I said.
       "I know. Thank you, Bubba," Kyle said.

Chapter 24

(John's Perspective)
       I am in love with Denny Morgan. I have been since the first day of school, but I had never had a private conversation with him, until recently. He is probably the best sophomore debater, and his parents had sent him to Debate Camp at Emory the summer before. If I had known about it, I knew my parents would have let me go, too, but I didn't find out about it until after it was full.
       Anyway, Denny is everything I have been looking for in a boyfriend, and I really do think he is gay. I mean, he doesn't "act gay," but the rumor is he lives in a gay foster home, just for gay guys.
       One afternoon after school, Denny and I were both in the library at school. It was just about deserted. They kept it open until 4:30, even though school was over at 2:30, and he and I were in there doing research for debate. That day I finally worked up the nerve to talk to him.
       It turned out he is gay. And I told him I am, too. He is the first and only person I’ve ever told. He called me that night.
       "Hey. What are you doing?" he asked.
       "My trig homework. Mr. Lawley's an awesome teacher, but he gives a lot of homework," I said.
       "I know. Mike's a friend of ours, but he does give a lot of homework," Denny said.
       "Mike? You call him Mike?" I asked. I was shocked.
       "I don't call him that at school, but, yeah. When he's bare-ass naked in our yard and I'm handing him a beer, I call him Mike," Denny said.
       "Is he . . . "
       "Gay? Yes, he is. His partner is Pat Taylor, and Pat is the brother of our preacher," Denny said.
       "You're blowing my mind," I said. "A preacher's brother is gay?"
       "Yeah, and so is the preacher," he said. "It takes all kinds."
       "I had a good time this afternoon with you. I really like you," I said.
       "Let's do it again tomorrow. But get some money, okay?"
       I laughed.
       "I usually have money on me. I just didn't have any today," I said.
       "We can do stuff where you don't have to spend money, you know? I just want to spend time with you," he said.
       "Me, too," I said.
       "I really like you," he said.
       "I really like you, too," I said.
       "Maybe someday we can be boyfriends," he said. "Did you love it that Kyle made us kiss today?"
       "Of course I loved it. That was the first kiss I ever had," I said.
       "Cool," Denny said.
       "Was that your first kiss, too?" I asked.
       There was a long pause.
       "No," he said.
       "I didn't think so," I said. "But that's okay. I know you've had boyfriends before."
       "A boyfriend. Not boyfriends," he said.
       "Did you have sex with him?" I asked.
       "Yes," he said. "I told you that this afternoon, remember?"
       "Can I ask you a question?" I said.
       "Sure. What?"
       "What did you and your boyfriend do when you had sex?" I asked.
       "I figured that was what your question was going to be. We kissed. Tongue kissed, not like I kissed you today. Rubbed each other all over, touched each other's dick, sucked each other's nipples. A few times we got brave and sucked each other's dick," he said. "Oh, we also rimmed each other and rubbed each other's prostate. That's about all."
       Just listening to him say that made my dick harder than it already was. It was uncomfortable, so I unzipped my shorts to give it room, and I noticed a big, wet spot on my underwear. I pulled the waistband of my briefs down below my balls, and my dick was sticking up out of the fly of my shorts. I couldn't resist touching it.
       "I don't know what those last two things are. I mean, I know what your prostate is, but how did you get to it?" I asked.
       "You get to it through the butt. You have to be real careful, but it feels wonderful. You lube up a finger and stick it right in. When you hit the prostate, you just rub it gently. Do you make pre-cum when you get hard?" he asked.
       "I don't know. What is it?" I asked.
       "It's clear, sticky stuff that comes out of your dick when you get a hard-on," he said.
       That must have been what got my briefs wet, I thought. "Yeah, I do. Why?"
       "When you rub another guy's prostate, he makes a lot of that stuff. I'm making a ton of it right now," he said.
       "Do you have a hard-on?" I asked.
       "Yeah. Don't you?" he said, sounding surprised that I would ask that.
       "Yeah. I've got mine out," I said.
       "Mmmm. I'd like to see it," he said.
       "I'd like you to see it, too," I said. "Would you touch it, if you saw it?"
       "Would you want me to?" he asked.
       "Yes," I whispered.
       "What? I didn't hear you," he said.
       "Yes," I said a little louder.
       I was really close to shooting, and I was afraid I'd get my stuff all over my bed. I got up to get a tissue from my desk. When I sat back down, my dick erupted. I caught most of it, but that was the biggest load I could ever remember. I must have gasped or moaned or something when I shot.
       "Yes, I'd touch it. What just happened?" he asked.
       "Nothing. I was afraid I was about to sneeze," I said.
       I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth. I had heard of phone sex, of course, but that wasn't really what we were doing. I didn't want him to think I'm stupid or some little kid who can't control himself.
       "Did you do the reading for AP Euro yet?" he asked.
       "Most of it," I said.
       I wanted to get back to talking about sex, but I didn't know how to do that without sounding like a horn dog, or something. Then I thought of a question.
       "How long are you supposed to wait before you have sex with a guy you're dating?" I asked.
       "I don't know. I guess some guys do it on the first date, and some never do it for a real long time," he said. "Why? Do you want to have sex?"
       Yes! Of course I wanted to have sex. I didn't want him to think bad of me, though.
       "Do you?" I asked.
       "Eventually," he said. "We'll know when it's right. Well, I just called to see how you were doing. I haven't even started my history reading yet. I finished my trig, though. I'll see you tomorrow."
       "Okay. Thanks for calling. Don't forget, we have a date after school," I said.
       "I won't. Bye," he said.
       "Bye," I said, and we hung up.
       After the phone call, I took a shower, put on fresh briefs, and finished my homework.
       * * *
       Denny and I had all four classes together, and I had a really hard time concentrating on anything but him. The debaters tended to eat lunch together at the same table in the cafeteria every day, but Denny was never there. I didn't know what he did for lunch, so I asked him.
       "We have the buffet at the Starfish Motel. Do you want to go?" he asked.
       Every now and then one of the debaters who had a car would take some of us off campus for lunch, but usually everybody sat around at school talking about debate. I wasn't going to miss that chance to be with Denny, though.
       "Sure," I said, as we were leaving third period.
       "Well, let's hurry up before we get left," he said.
       We met up with four other guys in the senior parking lot. Denny introduced me, and it was Tim Murphy, Brian Mathews, Murray Schultz, and Chip Rooney. Tim had a Jeep that only seated four people, but we all piled in.
       "We can take my car, too," Brian said.
       "This is okay," Tim said.
       "Tim, drive us to the junior parking lot, please. This isn't safe, and you know it," Brian said.
       Tim laughed, but he did what Brian said. Denny and I stay wedged in the back seat of the Jeep, Murray stayed in the front seat, and Brian and Chip went in Brian's car.
       When we went inside, there were other boys waiting for us at a big table. They introduced me to them. I don't remember all of their names, though. Altogether, there were about twelve boys at the table. Denny and I mostly just listened to what they were talking about. The ones who did most of the talking were Brian, Tim, and a guy named Reid, who was a senior.
       Once we were back at school, Denny and I went right to the debate classroom, even though we still had about five minutes before the bell. I wished Denny and I could be partners, but my partner and I were in our second year together. He was also my best friend, and I knew it would hurt his feelings really bad if I dropped him for Denny. Besides, Denny and his partner were an awesome team, and I doubted Denny wanted to leave him for me.
       "That was a great lunch," I said. "Thanks for asking me."
       "You're welcome. Those are nice guys, aren't they?" he said.
       "Yeah. Are they all, er, like us?"
       "You mean, are they all gay?" he said.
       "Shhh. Not so loud," I said.
       He laughed. "I'm sorry, but everybody in here knows I'm gay, I think, so I don't really think about having to be careful," he whispered. "But, no, they're not all family. That's what we say. We say they're family if they're like us."
       "Who isn't family?" I asked.
       "Morgan, Blake, Riley, and Chip," he said. "Everybody else is family."
       "Wow! How many family are in this school?" I asked.
       I knew a couple of gay kids, and I had my suspicions about a few others, but they didn't include any of those people who were at lunch with us.
       "I don't know. Probably in the neighborhood of 130 or 140. 'Out' family? Probably sixty or seventy," he said.
       "That's pretty amazing," I said.
       "We're everywhere," he said.
       * * *
       That afternoon was pretty much a repeat of the day before, only we left school earlier to go to Burger King. It was actually more private there than it was in the library. Since we weren't getting anything done on debate anyway, we might as well be at the restaurant.
       After that, we spent as much time together as we could. Some days we'd go to my house and hang out, and sometimes we'd just stay at school and talk. I had to work at the hardware store all day on Saturday and every other Sunday afternoon, and, with the hard schedules we both had, plus debate, we spent a lot of time doing homework. We kissed a few more times after that first time, but, for all practical purposes, we were nothing more than good friends. I wanted a boyfriend, though, and I was starting to get a little impatient.
       That changed, however, the weekend before Thanksgiving. It was an out-of-town debate trip to Pensacola for a tournament at the University of West Florida. It worked out great because Denny's partner couldn't go on the trip because his family was going back to where he had moved from to spend the whole week with his grandparents. My partner got diagnosed with a pretty bad case of mono the week before the trip, and his parents wouldn't let him go.
       "Johnny, I'm real sorry I can't go," Jesse said when he called to tell me. "I feel like crap, though, man, and I wouldn't be able to do any good, anyway."
       He still called me Johnny sometimes. He and my grandfather were the only holdouts. I never said anything to either one of them about that, though.
       "I guess I won't be able to go," I said.
       "Maybe you will. Denny Morgan's partner isn't going. Maybe Mrs. Ruddick will let you and Denny be partners," Jess said.
       That was too good to be true, but that's exactly what happened.
       It was a tradition that same-sex partners roomed together on trips, and that was even better. Not only would Denny and I be partners, we'd have some privacy, too.
       We went straight to the University from Emerald Beach on Friday, and we finished at five that afternoon. I was pretty tired, but Denny and I had done well in the three rounds we debated that day. After we ate and checked into the hotel, he and I went to our room.
       "I'm slammed," he said, flopping on the bed.
       "You better take your suit off, don't you think?" I said.
       "Yeah," he said. "How do you sleep?"
       "Just in my underwear," I said.
       "Good. Me, too," he said.
       He got up and took his clothes off. Denny had an okay body, not especially big or muscular or anything, but when I saw him in just his briefs--bikini briefs, at that--I popped a hard-on instantly.
       "Aren't you going to get comfortable?" he asked me.
       "In a minute," I said. When and if my erection goes down, I thought.
       He did something then that was going to change my life. He walked over to the chair I was sitting on, extended his hand to me, and made me stand up.
       "May I kiss you?" he asked.
       "Yes," I said. Oh, yes!
       He kissed me gently at first, softly, and lovingly, too, I was hoping. Then he kissed me harder. His tongue was on my lips, and I opened them for him. Finally, a long, deep, passionate kiss. I was so excited I could barely breathe. We pulled away from our kiss, but he was holding me around the waist.
       "Was that okay?" he asked.
       "It was wonderful," I said.
       "I don't want to go too fast and scare you," he said. "And if I ever start to do something that you don't like or that scares you or makes you uncomfortable, tell me right away and I'll stop."
       "Okay," I said.
       "Why don't you take your clothes off down to your underwear?"
       I was very embarrassed, and I'm sure I was blood red.
       "What's the matter?" he asked.
       "Don't laugh, okay? I have an erection," I said.
       "You mean like this one?" he asked, pulling back from me and gesturing to his own crotch.
       I sat back down and smiled.
       "Did kissing me make that happen?" I asked.
       "Yep," he said, grinning. "You arouse me, boy."
       I got undressed, but I was still embarrassed for him to see me hard. What happened next, though, changed that, too. He grabbed me up for another kiss once I was out of my clothes, and I could feel his erection rubbing on mine through our underwear. We stood there holding each other, touching. He started licking my ear, and that was all it took. I shot into my briefs. He rubbed himself against me a little bit more, and he did the same thing.
       "Ohhhhh," he said, and I moaned, too.
       * * *
       There were two double beds in the room, but we slept together in one of them. The next morning we messed up the second bed in case somebody came in while we were getting ready to go, but one bed was all we needed.
       That was a short tournament, and we had three more rounds on Saturday morning before leaving after lunch. That Friday night, we had sex--or made love, as Denny called it--three more times before we crashed into sleep. That was the night I saw a boy, other than myself, hard for the first time. That was the first time I touched another penis, and that was the night I discovered how great my nipples made me feel when he played with them or sucked them.
       "Do you think I'm no longer a virgin?" I asked the next morning.
       "You're definitely no longer a virgin," he said. "You don't need to screw to stop being a virgin. At least that's what the other guys say."
       Up until then, Denny had made every first move. When he said that, I grabbed him and kissed him without him starting it. We kissed for a long time, with plenty of tongue, and we both got hard again. Again, like the night before, we rubbed our erections together standing in the middle of the room. That time we were both naked, though, and we shot our stuff all over each other.
       "Are we boyfriends now?" I asked.
       "Definitely," he said, smiling sweetly.

(Scott's Perspective)
       "Hello," I said, answering the phone in my room.
       "Have you seen Sean?"
       It was Colleen.
       "No, he's out of town," I said.
       "Not anymore. I saw him at a restaurant tonight, and, buddy, he looked like shit," she said.
       "What do you mean?" I asked.
       "He has a black eye, a bandage on his right cheek, and one of his fingers is in a splint."
       "What happened?"
       "I don't know. I didn't talk to him. In fact, I don't even know if he saw me. I was with my parents, and he was with all those hunky guys he lives with. You need to get your ass over there to see about him," she said.
       "My mom's not going to let me go out this late on a Sunday night," I said. "I'll call him."
       "Call me right back, you hear?"
       "Okay. Bye."
       Gosh, I thought. I wonder what could have happened. I had overheard some people talking a few days before, and they were saying that somebody, some gay guy, had turned into a slut. They shut up as soon as they saw me. I knew they couldn't have been talking about me, but I wondered if maybe they had been talking about Sean.
       He and I were still dating, but he had seemed a little distant the last two or three times we did something together. I knew he wanted anal sex, and I knew he wanted me to be the bottom. I just wasn't ready for that yet, if I ever would be. I didn't know about him.
       I decided to call him on his cell.
       "Hello," he said when he answered.
       "Hi," I said. "How was the trip?"
       "It was all right. There were nine of us in an eight-seater, and that was an awful lot of 'togetherness.'"
       "Did you do any fun stuff?"
       "Yeah. Some of it was fun. A lot of it was boring history shit, though. These guys get off on forts and shit like that. No amusement parks," he said.
       "Did anything out of the ordinary happen?"
       There was a long pause, and I thought the connection might have been broken.
       "Sean? Are you there?"
       "Yeah, I'm still here. Who'd you talk to?"
       "What do you mean?"
       "Did Colleen call you? I think I saw her tonight," he said.
       He was certainly acting weird.
       "Yeah, I just talked to her. Why?"
       "That bitch," he said. "I was afraid that was her."
       "Babe, why are you acting like this? What's wrong?"
       "I got the shit kicked out of me, okay? I'm sure she told you I look like crap, didn't she? Well, I do, and I feel like crap, too. My balls are so sore I can barely walk. I got a busted collar bone, a dislocated finger, and a cut on my cheek," he said.
       "Jesus, Baby. I'm so sorry. Were you robbed? How'd it happen?"
       "Naw, I wasn't robbed. You don't want to hear about it," he said.
       "Yes, I do. I care about you, Babe," I said. "If we're boyfriends, I should know everything about what happened."
       "All right, but you're not going to like it," he said. "It's not pretty."
       "Let me be the judge of that," I said. "Come on. Tell me."
       "Okay. I was giving this guy a blowjob. He rammed his dick down my throat and made me puke all over him. Then he beat me up for doing it."
       "Who was it? One of your brothers? Was it Justin?"
       "Oh, hell, no. He's not like that. None of them are. Besides, none of them would ever have sex with me. I don't know who he was. Just a trick, okay?"
       I was stunned, both at what he had done and at the fact that he told me about it. I didn't know what to say.
       "Scottie? Are you there?"
       "Yeah."
       "Are you pissed off at me?" he asked.
       "I'm numb, Sean. I don't know how I feel right now. I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said, and I hung up before he could even say goodbye.
       I didn't know what to think. Did he need sex that badly that he would just pick up random guys off the street for a quick blowjob? I could almost understand it if it had been one of his brothers. I mean, I could imagine a situation where he and Kyle, or he and Justin were fooling around, playing, or something, and they both got hard. I mean, that might be a pretty difficult situation to walk away from, but a random trick? That word made it sound like prostitution or something. He hasn't even given me a blowjob, and I'm his boyfriend. He's licked it and kissed it a few times, but never a real blowjob.
       My phone rang. I checked the caller ID, and it was Sean. I didn't know if I wanted to answer it or not. Suddenly, it stopped ringing.
       "Scottie. It's for you. It's Sean. Don't stay on the phone too long. You've got school tomorrow," my mother said.
       "Okay," I said.
       "Hello."
       "Can I come over? I think we need to talk."
       "It's late, man. My mom's not going to let you come over this late," I said.
       "I'll sneak into your room. Please, Scott. This is important to me. To us," he said.
       "Okay, but don't expect any sex, you hear?"
       "No. This isn't about sex. I'll be there in five minutes," he said.
       "Okay, but be careful. I'll take the screen off my window," I said.
       "Okay. Bye. I love you," he said.
       "Bye," was all I said in reply.
       There was a tap on my door.
       "Come in," I said.
       My mother opened the door to talk to me.
       "Was Sean just checking in? Did he have a good time on his trip?"
       "Yeah. He had a good time," I said.
       "It's ten o'clock, and I'm going to bed. Did you finish all of your homework?"
       "Yes, ma'am," I said.
       "Good. Don't stay up too late. School tomorrow. I love you, sweetie."
       "Yes, ma'am. I love you, too, Mom. Good night."
       "Good night," she said, and then she left.
       Fortunately, she slept like a log. She had one of those Hepa Filter machines in her room because of her allergies, and she kept it on "high" at night. That thing made enough noise to drown out just about anything, even the phone if the ringer was set on low. Which it was, so my friends could call late at night. That was a blessing.
       I turned on the overhead light in my room, and I took care of taking the screen out of my window. It was pretty chilly, so I closed the window again. I was in just my briefs because I was ready for bed, but I put on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. I didn't want him getting any ideas.
       It took Sean about ten minutes to get to my house. He really did look like shit, like Colleen had said. I got him inside without making any noise, and I turned on the TV set to give some background sound.
       "We have to talk real low. My mom's already in bed," I said.
       "No kiss hello?" he said, barely above a whisper.
       "Not tonight, okay? I'm really not feeling all that good about you right now," I said.
       "I can understand that. That's why I wanted to talk to you. I really care about you and for you," he said.
       "Yeah, but not enough to keep from giving another guy a blowjob, right?"
       "Don't hold that against me, okay? I made a big mistake, and I'm paying for it. I still hurt like hell, and I probably will for several days. But is what I did really all that bad?" he asked.
       "I don't know, Sean. You tell me," I said. "Are we boyfriends, or aren't we?"
       "We're boyfriends, but do we have to be exclusive? Aren't you tempted to get with another guy sometimes? When you and I have sex, I think of it as making love with somebody who is very dear to me. When I had sex with that guy, it was just sex. Nothing more," he said.
       "How did it even come about?" I asked.
       "Look. You really don't want to know all of that. I was high, and he was high. I had been drinking, too, and so had he. I was also afraid he would rape me if I didn't do it," he said. "He said he would, anyway, and he was big enough to do it, too."
       "Well, that sort of changes things," I said.
       "Yeah. Scottie, I was pretty desperate to survive. His name was Billy. That's all I know. I met him earlier that day when the others were flying airplanes. He told me he had weed, and he asked me if I wanted some. He picked me up that night after we got home to the hotel, and that's what happened. And that's all that happened. You have to believe me," he said.
       "I guess you're not really a very good cocksucker," I said.
       He smiled and chuckled a little.
       "I guess not," he said. "Hell, I haven't even done that with you. But that can change, if you'll let it."
       Every rational instinct told me to send his ass home, but when he said that, I started reacting sexually. I had fantasized about getting a blowjob for years, and I figured he and I would get around to that eventually.
       "Come here," he said.
       I pulled closer to him on the bed. He put his arms around me, and we kissed. We kissed for a long time, as passionately as we had ever kissed before. He started taking my shirt off me, and then my jeans and underwear. In no time, it seemed, he had my dick in his mouth, and the feeling was spectacular. He tickled my balls and rubbed my butt crack. He got me on my back and licked my balls. Then he went further down to my asshole, and he licked that, too. It was unbelievable. With my dick in his mouth, I shot my load. I almost passed out, it was so long and strong.
       "Am I forgiven?" he asked, smiling the smile that only he could manage.
       "You're forgiven," I said and smiled back at him.
       "Can I spend the night?" he asked.
       "No. My mother would freak if she found out, and she would find out. How did you get here, by the way?"
       "I borrowed Tim's Jeep," he said.
       "Tim let you borrow his Jeep?"
       "He doesn't know I have it," he said. "I don't have a license, remember? I'm going this week for it, though. I thought my fucking parents were going to give me a car for my birthday, but I didn't even get a card, much less a car."
       "When was your birthday?" I asked.
       "October 7th," he said.
       "You didn't tell me that was your birthday. I would have gotten you a present," I said.
       "I didn't tell anybody. I figured if my own parents didn't care about it, nobody else would, either," he said.
       "That makes me sad, Sean. Everybody should celebrate their birthday in some way. I'll take you out to eat and to a movie next Saturday for a belated celebration, okay? Oh, Baby, I feel awful about this."
       "Okay. Well, if I can't spend the night, I guess I'd better go," he said.
       "Aren't you going to let me take care of you?" I asked.
       "Not tonight. This was for you. Besides, I came in my pants when I was doing you," he said.
       "Okay. Thank you, Sean. I love you," I said.
       He kissed me gently.
       "I love you, too," he said.
       I told him good night as he was crawling out my window. I dropped the screen on the ground when I was trying to put it back in place. I hoped my mom wouldn't notice it, and I wrote myself a note to remember to put it back the next day. As I was closing the blinds, the phone rang. I caught it on the first ring.
       "What did he say happened?" Colleen asked. "And why the fuck didn't you call me back?"
       "He said he was mugged by three guys. They stole his money, but they threw his wallet back at him when he was on the ground. He just left here. That's why I haven't called you back. He's okay, though."
       "No more dirt than that? That's hardly worth taking a beating over," she said.
       We both laughed.
       "Not everyone is a drama queen, my dear," I said.
       "Obviously," she said.
       "He told me tonight that October 7th was his sixteenth birthday. His parents didn't even send him a card, much less buy him the car he thought he was getting. He didn't tell anybody it was his birthday because he thought nobody would care," I said.
       "Poor baby! We'll have to plan something to make up for that. Is he going to school tomorrow?"
       "I don't know. I didn't ask him," I said.
       "You didn't ask him? I swear, Scott, we simply must do something about your lack of interrogation skills. How do you expect to function as a gay man in this day and age without good interrogation skills? That's where gossip comes from, sweetie," she said.
       I love Colleen. She always makes me laugh.
       "I need to go to sleep," I said. "I love you, Fag-Hag-In-Chief."
       "And I love my little fag, too. Nighties."
       "Goodnight," I said and hung up the phone.
       I put my briefs back on, turned off the TV, and got in bed. As I was putting on my underwear, I thought that blowjobs were good in lots of ways, one of which was convenience. No mess to have to contend with.

(Sean's Perspective)
       I didn't go straight home when I left Scott's house. I had lied to him when I said I got off blowing him, and I was horny as hell right at that moment.
       There was a convenience store not far from our house that had a gay night attendant. The first time he and I had hooked up was over a pack of cigarettes. There's this stupid law that says you have to be eighteen to buy cigarettes. You don't have to be eighteen to smoke 'em; just to buy 'em. Well, the guy didn't want to sell me a pack because I didn't have ID that said I was eighteen. He was swishy as hell, so I took a chance and offered him a blowjob in return for letting me buy some. At first he thought I was joking. Then I showed him the bulge in my shorts from my hard-on, and he believed me. He and I went into the storeroom, and I sucked him off. He ended up giving me a pack for free.
       That particular night, I was with Tim and Brian. The three of us had gone to a movie together, and they waited in the car for me.
       "He sold them to you?" Brian asked me when I finally came out. His voice sounded like he was surprised.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "What took you so long?" Tim asked.
       "It was only, like, ten minutes," I said.
       "I know. Did you have to take a dump?" Brian asked. "We saw you go to the back with the guy."
       "Yeah. Nasty bathroom, too," I said.
       Ever since that night, I've popped in from time to time for smokes and a blowjob. Kyle buys me a pack now and then, but I smoke way more than he supplies. The first couple of times it was me blowing him, but then he told me he wanted to blow me sometimes, too. I didn't have a problem with that, of course, so now we sort of take turns. I didn't know whose turn it was that night after Scott's house, but that wouldn't matter. He'd blow me if I asked him to.
       "Hi," I said when I went into the store.
       "Hi, yourself. My God, Sean. What happened to your eye?" he asked.
       "Long story. I got mugged in St. Augustine. Can I get some smokes?"
       "Absolutely," he said, handing me a box of Marlboros. "I'd like to have a bit of a smoke myself." He winked.
       "I was counting on it," I said, smiling back.
       "Well, let's go. You know the place," he said.
       He got down and unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts. He liked to fondle me before doing it, but I didn't want him to that night.
       "Be careful. My balls are in bad shape right now," I said.
       He eased my briefs down.
       "I'll say. They're all bruised and look a little swollen. Was that from the mugging?"
       "Yeah," I said. Get on with it, I thought. This isn't a date.
       He played with my dick a little, but he was careful of my balls. He liked for me to be hard when he put it in his mouth, for some reason. I preferred to start with a softie and make it hard myself. It didn't take long for me to get ready, and it might have been just my imagination, but I thought he did an extra-good job that night.
       Once that matter was taken care of, I got back in the Jeep and lit up a smoke. What to do and where to go, I thought. I had heard there was sometimes action at the County Pier, but I wasn't real sure where it was, and I didn't know if this late on a Sunday night anybody would be around. I had no intention of going to school the next day, not looking like I looked, so going to bed didn't really appeal to me. I wished Scott had let me sleep over at his house, but I understood why I couldn't.
       After I finished my smoke in the parking lot, I decided to just go on home. I had a computer in my room, and I thought maybe I could chat up some cyber sex or something.
       I killed the lights on the Jeep before I turned into the driveway. At the very start of the driveway, I also killed the engine and coasted into a parking place. Then I realized it wasn't where Tim usually parked it, but I didn't want to take a chance starting it up to move it. I walked around the house and carefully opened the back door. The dogs slept in the laundry room, which was right off the back foyer, and I was extra careful not to wake them up. They kept an extra set of keys to each vehicle on a pegboard next to the back door, in case one of them had to be moved and the owner wasn't available. I returned the keys to the Jeep to where they belonged, and that's when one of the fucking dogs woke up.
       It was Krewe. She was a cute dog, and all, but she had a nasty habit of barking once or twice to tell you hello. She came out of the laundry room, saw me, and barked not once, not twice, but three fucking times.
       "Shhh," I said.
       She was all happy to see me, like they both always were, and she was wagging her tail and poking me with her nose for me to give her some attention. I stooped down to pet her so she'd go back to bed, and I must have spent more time doing that than I realized. All of a sudden, the kitchen lights come on, scaring the crap out of me. It was Justin and Brian, both naked with semi-hard dicks.
       "Fuck!" Justin said. "You scared the crap out of us, Sean. What are you doing, man?"
       "I needed cigarettes, so I walked down to the Jiffy Store for a pack," I said. "I'm staying out of school for a few days until my face looks better."
       "These here on this counter weren't to your liking? They're your brand, man," Justin said.
       "I didn't want to smoke somebody else's cigarettes," I said. "Those must be yours, I guess."
       I knew he was suspicious, and you might know it would be just my luck for a pack of my brand, actually the brand of every smoker in the house, to be out on the counter in plain view.
       "They're either mine or Kevin's, but it doesn't matter who they belong to. You could have had one, or the whole pack, and you know it. This ain't the first time you've snuck out of this house, is it?"
       "What do you mean?" I asked.
       "Look here, Bubba . . . " He started toward me, and I must have cringed. "Don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. I want to talk to you, though," Justin said.
       He put his arm around my shoulder. Even though I had just come a few minutes before from the blowjob at the convenience store, having that big, naked stud wrap his arm around me boned me up in three heartbeats.
       "Sean, we're worried to death about you, man. We care about you, Bubba," he said.
       "I didn't think you liked me or cared about me," I said.
       "Well, I do. I don't trust you as far as I can throw you, but I do care about you. We all care. You got beat up pretty bad in St. Augustine. I don't know the details, and they're really none of my business, but I can guess the 'in generals' of that whole deal. That was just a beating. The next time it might be your life, Bubba. Don't you see that?"
       "Well, I'm not sure my life's all that valuable to anybody," I said.
       "Oh, man! Don't say that. Of course you're valuable. Why would you think that?" Justin asked.
       "Tell that to my fucking parents," I said.
       "Are you having sex with everybody so you'll feel valued?" Brian asked.
       "Ask your boyfriend. He did the same damn thing, didn't he?" I said.
       "Let's go up to our room so we can talk in private, okay, Sean? Somebody might come in here looking for a snack or something," Justin said.
       "I don't want you guys ganging up on me," I said. "You and Little Miss Puppy Dog."
       He pulled his arm from around me, and I thought he was going to punch me. I almost wished he would.
       "All right. That's it. Fuck you, Sean. Let's go, Little Buddy. We ain't going to do any good with him," Justin said.
       He and Brian turned to leave.
       "Justin, I'm sorry," I said. "That was a shitty thing to say, and I'm sorry I said it."
       "I am, too," Justin said, and they walked away.

Chapter 25

(Brian's Perspective)
       When we got to our room from the kitchen scene with Sean, Justin was livid.
       "Brian, I hope you realize how close I came to killing that mother fucker," Jus said.
       "Calm down, Buddy. You're mad because he called me Little Miss Puppy Dog, aren't you?"
       "You're goddamn right I am, Brian. If that son of a bitch ever disrespects you again, he's going to get a beating that'll make him think what that guy in St. Augustine did was jerk him off. Aren't you mad? I am," he said.
       "I'm almost afraid to tell you what I really think," I said.
       "Brian, don't you dare ever be afraid of me," he said.
       "I'm not really afraid of you," I said.
       "What did you think of it? You probably thought it was funny, didn't you?" he said.
       "Yeah, I did," I said. He had calmed down by then.
       "I guess when you think about it, it is pretty clever," he said. "I mean, if Kyle or Rick had called you that, I would probably have laughed my ass off."
       "You don't like him, do you?" I said.
       "No, I really don't. And it bothers me, Little Buddy. I mean, I always like everybody, and I get along with everybody. But there's something about him that rubs me the wrong way," he said. "I don't know what it is, either."
       "By the way, I wanted to tell you that I was very proud of you down there. You didn't lose your temper with him. You sincerely wanted to help him, didn't you?"
       "Yeah, I did. I really do care about him. I don't know if you noticed, but when he said he didn't think I liked him or cared about him . . . "
       "I did notice it. You said something like 'I do. I do care about you. We all do.' Am I right?"
       He grinned.
       "That's exactly right. I never said I liked him. He didn't get it, though, do you think?"
       "Probably not," I said. "I'm so wired right now, I don't know if I'll ever get back to sleep."
       "I know," he said. "I'm the same way. That little prick. Why'd he have to do that? Ruined my beauty sleep. Do you think Little Miss Puppy Dog would like to lap up some dogwater?"
       "What are you talking about?" I asked.
       He chuckled. "Ole Buel Jackson up in Alabama used to call that pre-cum stuff 'dogwater,'" he said. "I don't know where he got that from, but that's what he called it."
       "Yeah, I could use a little taste of dogwater right now. How about you?" I asked.
       "Oh, absolutely. Come here to me, you little cutie," he said.
       What can I say? Sixty-nine is divine.
       * * *
       The next morning Sean wasn't at the breakfast table.
       "Where's Sean?" Murray asked.
       "He's going to stay out of school for a few days until his face heals up some," Rick said. "He has permission."
       "So, are we going to talk about this thing, or what?" Kyle asked.
       "What thing?" Kevin asked.
       "The Sean thing," Kyle said. He was deep into the grumble that morning.
       "What is there to say about it?" Rick asked.
       "I don't know, but I just feel like we need to discuss it or something," Kyle said.
       "I don't want to discuss it," Justin said. "By the way, Kyle, don't you have a birthday coming up pretty soon?" Justin changed the subject on purpose, and I knew what he was doing.
       "Yeah. Next month, on the thirteenth," he replied.
       "How old are you going to be, Kyle?" Murray asked. Without realizing it, Murray was playing into Justin's hand.
       "Nineteen," Kyle said.
       "What happens on your nineteenth birthday? Anything special?" Murray asked.
       "What do you mean?" Kyle asked.
       "Well, when you turn sixteen, you can get your license. When you turn eighteen you can vote and buy cigarettes and lottery tickets. When you turn twenty-one you can buy booze. Anything like that at nineteen?" Murray explained.
       "I don't think so. Same with seventeen and twenty. Those are just regular birthdays," Kyle said.
       "Do you want a party this year?" Kevin asked.
       "I don't know. It's on a Sunday," he said. "I had a big one last year, though, you know? And there was one for my graduation, too. With as many guys as there are in the house, people are going to start thinking we're just hitting them up for presents if we have a party for everybody every time."
       "He's got a point there," Rick said. "Maybe we should limit parties to just the big birthdays, like Murray was talking about. We had a party on Justin's nineteenth, but it was really a Fourth of July party. As I recall, we didn't even have a birthday cake for Justin."
       "Sean told us we missed his sixteenth birthday. It was earlier this month," Denny said.
       "I know. We figured that out last week," Kevin said. "It's kind of late to give him a party now, though."
       "How'd we miss it?" Justin asked.
       "Nobody knew. I mean, we had his birth certificate, but I guess neither Rick nor I had read it," Kevin said.
       "Is somebody going to see about getting him his license?" Tim asked.
       "I don't think that's a good idea," Justin said.
       "Why not?" Kevin asked. "I know he doesn't have a car, but there are plenty of cars around for him to drive if he needs one. He's dating, and his boyfriend doesn't have a car. Rick and I will have to discuss it."
       "Guys, I hate to leave, but I need to get to school early today. Is anybody else ready?" Tim asked.
       He looked around, grinning, knowing nobody else was. Murray and Denny were both still in their underwear. I always drove my own car because of my after-school job, so they could ride with me that morning.
       "I'm not," Murray said.
       "Go on and go in your skivvies. Show off that new figure to everybody," Justin said. "I think it's pretty damn hot."
       "I will if you will," Murray said.
       "No way," I said. "He wears clothes to school."
       "See you later," Tim said, and he kissed Kyle goodbye.
       Tim was back inside in less than a minute.
       "Kyle, did you use the Jeep last night?" Tim asked.
       "No. I was with you every minute last night, and half the time I was in you, too," Kyle said. "Don't you remember that?"
       "Must not have been all that much," Justin said. Kyle flicked him off.
       I figured they'd both get a reprimand for that for sure, but to my surprise, Kevin and Rick both just laughed.
       "Is there a problem with your car, Tim?" Rick asked.
       "I don't think so, but it isn't where I always park it. I just wondered if Kyle had used it, is all," Tim said. "Well, I've got to go. Bye, again."
       "Why would anybody use his car? Everybody who can drive has a car of their own," Kyle said.
       Denny and Murray finished up, and they went upstairs to get dressed.
       "Unless Sean used it," Justin said. "I know he knows how to drive, and Brian and I caught him sneaking back in last night around one o'clock. He said he walked to the Jiffy Store to buy a pack of cigarettes, when there was an almost-full pack of his brand on the counter in the kitchen. I wasn't going to tell y'all about that, but that's what happened."
       "I heard the dogs barking in the middle of the night, but it didn't even wake me up enough for me to check the time. I figured somebody was getting something to eat," Rick said. "Where would he have gotten the keys to the Jeep?"
       "Where do we keep the spare keys, Rick?" Justin asked.
       "I see your point," Rick said. "This is maybe a little more serious than just a car not being where it was parked."
       "He sneaks out. I've seen him," I said.
       "Why didn't you tell us this before, Brian? You didn't want to be a snitch, did you?" Rick asked.
       "I didn't think it was all that big a deal. Some guy drives up, Sean leaves the house and gets in the guy's car," I said.
       "Is it always the same car?" Kevin asked.
       "No. I don't think so. In fact, one time it was a Jeep and another time it was a pickup truck," I said. "The other times have been regular cars."
       "One time about a month ago I was real late coming in from a fraternity meeting, and I ran into him as we were both coming into the house," Kyle said. "I didn't think anything of it. I mean, I was out late, and I figured y'all knew where he was."
       "Yeah, but you're eighteen years old, Kyle, and you had told us you would probably be late. He was probably only fifteen when that happened. But I've never given him permission to be out late on a school night. Have you, Babe?" Kevin asked Rick.
       "No," Rick said.
       Denny and Murray were back downstairs, and it was time for us to leave. I had brought my backpack down with me, as I usually did. I would have liked to brush my teeth again, but there wasn't time. I told everybody goodbye and kissed Justin. We left for school.

(Kevin's Perspective)
       The first thing I did when I got to the office was call Tyrone Williams and explain what I thought was going on with Sean. Tyrone was very sympathetic, of course, but he pointed out that Sean wasn't really part of the State of Florida's caseload. He didn't feel comfortable, for ethical reasons, recommending any counselor over another.
       "For example, Kevin, if I gave you Jane Symanski's name, I could be sued by other counselors for promoting her above all the other counselors in town," Tyrone said.
       "I see your point, Tyrone. I guess counseling is a business like any other, and the state can't be perceived as supporting one private practitioner over another one," I said.
       "Absolutely. Just because Jane Symanski is a lesbian, who has been in a long-term relationship for years, and just because she has a gay son that she and her partner raised, can't cloud my thinking. Kevin, I can only direct you to the Yellow Pages and wish you luck in finding somebody at random who might be able to save this kid," Tyrone said.
       "Do you sometimes get frustrated with the bureaucracy, Tyrone?"
       "Kevin, I'm so frustrated right now, I'm about to pull my right ear off," he said.
       "You know that playing with your ear is a masturbation substitute," I said. I was teasing him, but I had actually read that somewhere.
       "Not where I come from. There ain't no substitute," he said.
       We both laughed.
       "I'm going to call Jerry Taylor to ask him for a recommendation, too," I said.
       "I know Jerry Taylor from somewhere, but I don't know where," Tyrone said.
       "He's our parish priest and a good friend," I said.
       "Oh, Father Taylor. Yes, of course. Call him right away. I know him, and he's good. And I know he knows Dr. Symanski."
       "Tyrone, thank you for not recommending anyone, especially not Dr. Symanski," I said.
       "That's right. I didn't recommend her. I can't, Kevin. If this conversation is being recorded, I am on record as not recommending Dr. Jane Symanski to Mr. Kevin Foley," Tyrone said. "Or any other qualified clinical psychologists or psychiatrists."
       "Tyrone, you are too wonderful, man," I said.
       "My wife said the same thing last night," Tyrone said.
       He and I both laughed.
       "I didn't mean it exactly the same way she did," I said, still laughing.
       "I know, but I'm multi-faceted," he said.
       "I love you, man," I said, laughing.
       "Don't take this the wrong way, but I love you and Rick, too," he said, and we hung up.
       I looked up Dr. Symanski's number right away and called her office. I asked to speak with her, and, to my surprise, I was put right through.
       "Hi, Kevin," she said, like she knew me.
       To the best of my knowledge, I had never met this woman. I wondered what somebody with her qualifications was even doing in Emerald Beach instead of, say, New York City.
       "Hi. Do we know each other?" I asked.
       "No, but I certainly know who you are," she said.
       I was a little bit intimidated. How did she know who I was? I mean, I had met a bunch of doctors through Gene and Rita, and through George and Sonya, too, but I didn't think I had ever met this woman.
       "Doctor, I'm at a loss because I can't remember meeting you," I said.
       "Oh, we've never met. Do you know a Jeffrey Martin?" she asked.
       "Yeah. I know Jeff very well. He lived in my house for about a year. I consider him my brother," I said.
       "Well, that's how I know you and Rick. I read Jeff's blog. I know all about the foster home on North Lagoon Drive," she said. "And I think what you and Rick are doing is just short of heroic."
       I was weak. I didn't know what to say.
       "You do?" I asked.
       "Yes. The whole gay and lesbian community in Emerald Beach knows of you guys, and, I dare say, the whole community from New Orleans to Jacksonville, too. You're from New Orleans, aren't you?" she said.
       "Yeah, I am," I said.
       I was amazed at what I was hearing. I had no idea anybody actually read that crap that Jeff wrote every day, except us. I mean, why would they?
       "Is the new boy having adjustment issues? Sean, isn't it? I think that's his name," she said.
       "Yeah, it's him. Sean. I'm not just amazed by you. I'm startled," I said.
       "Kevin, you shouldn't be. I think the G-L-B-T community is a lot more Internet savvy than others in our society. I personally have an email web that covers thirty-two states and seventeen foreign countries. I have sent the link to Jeff's blog to every one of them. And I know that my son, who lives in San Diego, has sent that link to all of his friends all over the world. There's no telling how many people regularly read Jeff's diary. And you and Rick, and what you're trying to accomplish a half mile away from my office, are incredible, Kevin. The world knows," she said.
       I was weak. I never expected that. I didn't respond for a while because I didn't know what to say.
       "Are you still there, Kevin?" she asked.
       "Yes, ma'am, I'm here," I said. "I don't know what to say."
       "You want an appointment for Sean, right?" she said.
       "Yes, I want him to see you," I said.
       "Tell me about him," she said.
       I told her everything I knew, from how he got to us to what had happened in St. Augustine.
       "I want to see him, but I'm going to tell you this up front. Sean is a runner. Don't be surprised if he runs again," she said. "You and Rick have a therapeutic community going there, but there are some who just don't respond to your kind of love. I will say this. I've got about thirty gay adolescent males on my caseload that I would love to refer to your place, but I know you're limited. I'm a child and adolescent psychiatrist, and I have a very special interest in gay boys. I raised one, in case you didn't know that. But I know you have a limit as to how many you can take. If those boys only knew how lucky they are."
       "Well, Sean's here. Let's see if we can keep him here," I said.
       "I'm all about that, Kevin. I knew that sooner or later I'd hear from you. It was Tyrone Williams, wasn't it?" she asked.
       "He didn't recommend you," I said.
       "Oh, I know. He can't. But that's okay. I understand."
       "Do I need to see you, too? Or Rick?" I asked.
       "I usually have my social worker do a home study to determine what's going on in the home. In your case, though, I feel as though I've been there. By the way, my partner and I love nude swimming. She's a retired Air Force full colonel. That's why we're here," she said.
       "No shit?"
       "No shit," she said, and we both laughed.
       She patched me back to her secretary, and I made an appointment for that very afternoon. Dr. Symanski had had two back-to-back cancellations for that afternoon, so she was going to be able to give Sean a full hour. I was elated. I felt as though we had a family member who was going to be treating Sean, and that made me feel real good.
       * * *
       I walked down to Rick's office to report on the phone call. He was as shocked and amazed as I was at what Dr. Symanski had said.
       "Babe, I was going to come see you, if you hadn't come to see me. What are you thinking?" Rick asked.
       "I'm thinking the first thing we have to do is move those damn keys," I said.
       "I'm way ahead of you. They're in our closet, even as we speak," he said. "I thought of that right after you left."
       "Good," I said. "Of course, there aren't any vehicles at home right now."
       "Except the boat," Rick said.
       "Shit, I didn't even think about the boat. I'm glad you did, though. Is there still a key to the boat in the clubhouse?" I asked.
       "No. That's the one that sleeps with the fishes," he said.
       I chuckled. Kyle used to take the float off the boat key when he was driving the boat because the float knocked against the dashboard and got on his nerves. How he ever heard it over the roar of the outboard, I'll never know, but he did. One day he was handing the key to me as we were getting off the boat, and he dropped it, sans float. Gone for good.
       "I'll go home and check on him at lunch," he said.
       "And I'll check on him at mid-afternoon. His appointment is at three. I'll take him, unless you want to," I said.
       "No, you made the contact. You take him," he said.
       "Okay," I said. "What about the driver's license? What do you think about that?"
       "I've given that some thought. Granted, he doesn't have a car, but there really is no reason we couldn't lend him one of ours for a date. We could control that. Also, if he does somehow figure out how to steal one of the other cars for a midnight rendezvous, wouldn't it be better if he was a licensed driver if something happened? And also an insured licensed driver?" Rick said.
       "I knew there was some reason I married you," I said.
       "Yeah, right. It was so Sean could get his license. That's why I married you, too," Rick said.
       "I'm not even going to respond to that," I said.
       "I can do it tomorrow, but not today," Rick said.
       "This afternoon is pretty filled up with the doctor's appointment. I guess we could do it tomorrow," I said.
       "Or this morning," Rick said. "Are you slammed?"
       "No, not at all. I'll take care of it this morning," I said.
       * * *
       I went home around ten o'clock, and Sean was in the den in his underwear. The dogs barked me in at the back door.
       "It's me, Sean," I called out, so he wouldn't be scared.
       "Hey, Kevin," he called back to me.
       "How you feeling, Bubba?" I asked, when I went into the den.
       "A whole lot better. I just got up a few minutes ago, and I think a good night's sleep makes all the difference when you're hurting," he said.
       "Good. Do your nuts feel okay?" I asked.
       "Not okay, but they're so much better," he said.
       "Do you feel well enough to get a driver's license?" I asked.
       His face lit up.
       "Oh, yeah. Oh, I'm so ready, Kevin," he said.
       "Let's go," I said.
       He ran upstairs, both flights, and came down in two minutes dressed and ready to go.
       "Er, Kevin," Sean said in the car. "What about my face? Won't my license have a picture on it?"
       "Ouch. I had forgotten about that," I said. "How would you feel about wearing makeup to cover the bruise? Or we could wait until it's all healed."
       "I really don't want to wait," he said. "Let's do the makeup thing, but please don't tell anybody about it, okay?"
       "I won't, Bubba. Just don't flash the license to the other boys. They'll know," I said.
       "Okay," he said.
       We stopped at a drugstore that had a makeup section, and there was a lady working there who helped us out, once I explained our dilemma. She must have been good because the bruise really didn't show.
       "He'd like a little lipstick and eye liner, too," I said.
       "Kevin!" Sean said, indignant.
       "He's my little brother, and I was just teasing him," I said to the lady.
       "I figured you were, but you'd be surprised at the number of men who buy women's makeup for themselves," she said.
       He had a learner's permit from Virginia, and evidently Florida had a reciprocal agreement with them about that. He had to take a road test, which I thought was a total farce. But, anyway, he passed it with flying colors. Sean was now a licensed driver in the state of Florida.
       When we got home, I called Dan Pettis, Ryan Pettis' father, and put his name on our insurance as a licensed driver.
       After we had done our business, Dan wanted to talk.
       "Kevin, you ain't getting off this phone this quick. My boy thinks you and Rick hung the moon. Gene Goodson thinks that, too. Did you boys hang the moon?"
       "What do you think, Dan?" I asked. He was a likeable guy, and Ryan Pettis was one of the best.
       "I think anybody who has made my boy feel as good about himself as you fellas have, has got to have hung some kind of moon. Gene and I have been friends since we were little tykes, and I'm so proud our two boys are friends. Kevin, I think what you and your guy are doing with these young boys is just wonderful. I'll insure them as long as I live, if they'll let me."
       "Dan, thank you so much," I said. "You'll probably be hearing from me again," I said.
       "Emery Cook from the bank called me, and so did Cliff Andrews, about Kyle buying some rental property. If you see Kyle, you tell him Ryan's daddy is on the case for the insurance. I doubt that Kyle even knows about insurance, but it'll be all taken care of when he assumes ownership. Kyle is fourth generation of his family with this company, and he's the first one to go that far back. That makes me so damn proud, Kevin. I know you've got to go. Your new boy is covered. Sleep tight, and goodbye."
       "Bye, Dan. You, too," I said.
       I continued to marvel at the roots of the Goodson family in that community. I couldn't imagine anything like that conversation happening in New Orleans, but maybe it could.
       "You're all covered for insurance," I said to Sean. "Do you need anything, Bubba?"
       "I need to talk to you," he said.
       "Sean, I'm yours all day, if that's what you want," I said.
       "Kevin, I'm a total disappointment to myself. I want to be a good kid, and I thought I knew how to be, but I'm not. I'm a total fuck up," he said.
       "In what way?" I asked.
       "In every way. Last night, for instance, I was talking to Justin and Brian. They wanted to help me, and I ended up insulting them. Justin hates me. I know he does," he said.
       "I doubt that Justin hates you," I said. I knew Justin wasn't fond of him, but I didn't think Justin was capable of hating anybody.
       "Well, he does. And I'm sure Brian does, too. I'm not sure about Kyle and Tim, but they probably do," he said.
       "I don't think anybody hates you. Rick and I certainly don't. We're worried about you, that's for sure, but we don't hate you," I said.
       "I've really been a screw-up, and I'm sorry," he said. "You guys took me in, sight unseen, and all I've done is cause trouble for you."
       "I made an appointment for you to see a counselor for this afternoon at three. It's with a lady, and she comes highly recommended. Kyle said you told him you wanted to see a counselor, and I think that's a good idea," I said.
       "Thank you," he said. "Kevin, would you hold me?"
       He might have been sixteen and might have looked twenty-five, but he was really just a vulnerable, needy little kid. We were in the den, on opposite sofas. I gestured for him to come to me, and I wrapped my arms around him. He was trembling slightly, and I knew it wasn't because he was cold. He didn't say anything after I started holding him, and I didn't either. Eventually, the trembling stopped, and in a little while he went to sleep in my arms. I gently lowered him to the sofa, and I got an afghan to cover him.
       In sleep, Sean looked like a little boy. He was beautiful, and he radiated an innocence that was charming and appealing. I knew there was a tempest just under the surface, but the surface was that of a gorgeous child.

(Sean's Perspective)
       I started seeing Dr. Symanski the day after we came home from St. Augustine. She was just about the coolest lady I had ever known. She told me she was a lesbian, which is a gay woman, and she said her only son is also gay. That put me at ease because at least I didn't have to explain what that was all about. She knew. All we really did was talk, but she also wanted me to take some medicine, something called Zoloft, because she said she thought I was depressed. If she meant I was sad a lot of the time, she was dead right. I took it every morning, like she said to do, but I really didn't feel any different for a long time. She said it might take as long as three weeks for it to work, though.
       "One side effect in some people is a lessening of the libido," she said.
       "I'm not sure what you mean," I said.
       "Sex drive. You might find that your sex drive isn't as strong as it has been," she said.
       I thought that was probably a good thing, in my case. It turned out not to be true, though, at least as far as I could tell. I still wanted sex all the time.
       Things at home got a little better over the next couple of weeks. I noticed they picked up the car keys, but Kevin let me use his car a few times when I wanted to go to Scott's house or if Scott and I had plans for a date. Justin didn't seem to hate me as bad as I thought he did, either. I mean, he and I didn't hang out or anything, but at least he treated me the same as he treated Murray and Denny.
       I snuck out a couple of times to hang out with guys I met here and there, but I didn't get caught again. I started coming in the front door, instead of the one in the back, so the dogs didn't wake up.
       One day in early November I had just come home from school with Tim. He had gone up to his room for something, and I was just hanging out in the den, watching Maury Povich on TV. The phone rang, and I answered it.
       "Hi, may I speak to Sean Kelly, please," the guy said.
       "This is Sean," I said.
       "Sean, congratulations! Your new Celica is ready for you to pick up," he said.
       "What?!" I said.
       He repeated himself.
       "Who is this?" I asked. I thought it was somebody playing a prank on me.
       He told me his name and that he worked at the Toyota dealership in town.
       "There must be a mistake," I said.
       "Are you Sean Kelly at 12345 North Lagoon Drive?" he asked.
       "Yes," I said.
       "Then there's no mistake. Is today your birthday?"
       It was November 7th.
       "No. My birthday was last month. October 7th."
       "Well, the card says, 'Happy Sixteenth Birthday, Son. Love, Mom and Dad. Frederick and Barbara Kelly. Are those your parents?"
       "I'm not believing this. I thought they forgot my birthday. They just got the month wrong," I said.
       "Well, I don't know about that, but you've got a beautiful new Toyota Celica GT sitting here waiting for you. Can you come and get it?" he said.
       "Yeah. I mean, I think so. How late do you stay open?" I asked.
       "We're open until six," he said.
       "Okay. Thanks for calling," I said, and we hung up.
       "TIM!!!" I screamed.
       He came charging out of his room.
       "What's the matter?" he asked.
       "You're not going to believe this."
       I told Tim about the phone call, and he got all excited for me. The dogs were all worked up, too. It was like they cared as much as I did.
       "Let's go get it," Tim said.
       He drove me to the Toyota place, and I saw my new car for the first time. It was black, and I thought that was about the most beautiful car I had ever seen. It was real sporty, and it had a little spoiler on the trunk lid. Of course, pervert that I am, I got an erection. Tim noticed it and started laughing.
       "Shut up," I said, laughing, too. "You're not supposed to notice things like that."
       "Since when am I not supposed to notice a hard-on?" he asked.
       "It's not for you," I said.
       "I know. Kyle gets hard like that when he gets excited, too. It's a normal reaction, or so he tells me. I think it's kind of cute," Tim said.
       The guy at the dealership didn't notice, thank God, or if he did, he didn't say anything. He went over the basics of the car with me, I signed a receipt, and then I took off. God! I was so excited and so happy. I couldn't believe my fucking parents got the month wrong, but at least they came through. I called them to say thanks as soon as we got home, but, of course, I got the message machine and not them. I told them how much I loved the car, and I thanked them for it. I actually cried a little, which I knew was stupid, and I ended by telling them that I loved them. That might have been a first for me.
       Of course, everybody was as excited as I was when they came home. I drove over to Scott's house to show him and his mom, and she actually started crying. I had really started liking her a lot, and she seemed to like me, too. I took Scott for a ride, and we ended up making out for a while on a deserted road near school. Scott and I had been swapping blowjobs ever since that first one at his house, and we did that to each other in my car that first day. It was sort of like a christening.
       Some guy called me that night on my cell phone, and he wanted to hook up around midnight for a date. He had gotten my name and number from some other guy. He just knew the other guy's first name, and I didn't recognize it. It was something like Cal or Carl or something like that. I told him I wasn't interested. Ordinarily, I would have jumped at the chance to meet a new guy and suck a new cock, but I thought maybe the Zoloft was starting to work a little. Dr. Symanski told me I would start sleeping better when it started to work, and the last two nights I had been able to stay asleep all night long. Maybe it was happening. I hoped so, anyway.
       On Kyle's birthday, November 13th, his parents took the whole crowd out for dinner at one of their hotels. It was all nine of us in the house, Kyle's parents, Tim's parents, and the four guys from the townhouse. I had met Kyle's and Tim's parents before, but that night I got to know them better.
       The thing that got me was how much those parents obviously loved those two boys. And it wasn't just their own son that they loved. Mr. and Mrs. Goodson seemed to love Tim as much as they loved Kyle, and Mr. and Mrs. Murphy seemed to love Kyle as much as they loved Tim. All four parents both seemed to love Justin and Brian, too, and it was pretty clear Jeff was a favorite, especially of Mr. and Mrs. Goodson.
       The thing about my parents was they just didn't know how to love a kid, at least not like those people did. Of course, every time I drove my car I thought about my parents, and it was harder and harder for me to hate them like I used to.
       I didn't think Kyle's parents had given him a present for his birthday, but I later found out they had. And so had the Murphys. Each family gave Kyle two trips to San Francisco during Spring Break, and I pretty much knew who would be going. That was a nice gift, but I think I still would rather have my car.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       Like I did every year, I looked at my birthday as the start of the holiday season. I guess that was pretty self-centered of me, but that's just the way I thought of it.
       Things were changing around our house. For one thing, Murray made his goal of losing forty pounds, and he was a totally different boy. His hair was fully grown out from when he had dyed it, and it looked good. He wore it short, like the rest of us, and you would never have known he had once been the freak he was when we first met him. Murray would never be a stud, that's for sure, but now when you looked at him you thought, Nice looking kid. He had quit smoking a while back, and he was faithful to working out with us, too. I was happy for him.
       The biggest changes, though, were in Sean. Not his looks, but his personality. He still looked like a model or something, but he was ten times nicer and more pleasant to be around. Sean used to get real moody, and that sucker would sometimes sleep all day on a weekend. Now he was cheerful and seemed happy. He and that boy, Scott Michaels, started hanging out with us, and their friends Colleen Boyle and Jenny Stone started coming over to watch movies and hang out with us in the clubhouse.
       That Colleen was a case. She had as filthy a mouth as I did, she smoked, and she could drink with the best of them. Mostly, though, she was funny as hell, especially about the fact that all of us were gay.
       At first, Justin was afraid of her, I think. A lot of people don't realize this, but Justin has a shy side to him sometimes. He hadn't been around a lot of people, especially girls, and Colleen and Jenny were a little overpowering for him, at first.
       The funniest thing happened the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving. That was the last day of school for that week, and it had been a bitch for me. Two big tests, and I had had to study my ass off for the one in chemistry. I ended up with a B on it, but that fucker was hard. In fact, it was so hard we had the option of counting it as our final exam. Guess what I chose.
       Anyway, that night Colleen and Jenny were at our house, and all the guys were in the clubhouse hanging out with them. Colleen and Jenny challenged me and Justin to a game of pool.
       "Strip pool," Colleen said. "Have you guys ever played that?"
       "Yeah. We play it all the time. Sometimes Kyle grows his own cue stick," Justin said.
       "Oh. My. God. That I've got to see," Colleen said.
       "Well, you got to make me lose first," I said.
       "Rack 'em, Big Boy," Colleen said to Justin, and he did.
       The game was fun, and there was lots of laughing and carrying on. Justin was an excellent pool player, but that night his game was shit. He was down to his briefs after the third game.
       "Okay. That's it. I'm out," he said. "Y'all won. I lost."
       "Is this the way you guys usually play? Just down to underwear?"
       Jenny had lost her blouse already, and she was just in her shorts, underwear, and bra. Colleen only had her underwear and bra on, and I knew she fully intended to take everything off, if she had to. When the game first started, nobody else in the room paid any attention to us. By then, though, every eye in the place was on the pool shooters. I still had everything but my shirt.
       "No," Brian said. "Don't be a wus, Buddy. Keep playing."
       "Yeah," everybody said at the same time.
       "If I'm going to do this, I need a drink," Justin said.
       "Bourbon and coke?" Sean asked.
       "Yeah. That's good," Justin said.
       "Anybody else?"
       The girls said they would have one, and I wanted one, too. I figured Sean and Scott would drink one with us.
       "Whose break?" Justin asked.
       "Yours," I said.
       He broke the rack and scratched on the very first shot. That meant he had to turn over his briefs.
       Everybody went crazy. Sean and Scott came running in from the kitchen to see what had happened, and the dogs were going crazy. Brian shushed them, though.
       "Are y'all really going to make me take it off?" Justin asked. He had a sort of pleading tone in his voice.
       "What's good for the goose, is good for the gander," Colleen said, and she poked him in his butt when she said "goose."
       "Kyle, please don't," he pleaded.
       "What the hell is wrong with you? You spend half your damn life naked in the summer time. There's nothing wrong with the way you look, man. I'm surprised at you for acting this way," I said.
       Everybody was loving it, but the girls thought the way he was carrying on was about the funniest thing they had ever seen. To me he was damn cute, and I'm sure the girls thought he was, too.
       "Fucking cue ball," Justin said. But then he took off his briefs.
       Everybody cheered, and some of 'em made catcalls. Everybody was laughing at how embarrassed Justin was.
       "Okay. Here it is. This here's my dick, and these are my balls, in case y'all didn't know," he said.
       "Wow!" Colleen said. "Can I get a closer look? I'm a tactile learner."
       She started going toward Justin, clenching and unclenching her hand, like she wanted a feel.
       "I don't know what that means, but you ain't touching me," he said.
       "It's part of my job as Fag-Hag-In-Chief," Colleen said. "I'm charged with the responsibility of seeing just how gay you are."
       "I'm fully gay, ain't I, Brian?" Justin said.
       Brian was laughing so hard he couldn't say anything.
       "And if I wasn't already, I'd turn gay before I'd let you touch me," he said.
       Colleen and Jenny were laughing harder than I had ever seen anybody laugh. When they calmed down, Colleen said,
       "Justin, I'm just teasing you. But let me tell you something. Don't be showing that stuff to any other girls because they won't let you stay gay long."
       "That's quite a compliment, Bubba," I said.
       "Yeah, well . . . I don't know," Justin said. "Let's play the game out. I'm dying to see some titty."
       Things got settled down after that, and pretty soon Justin forgot he was naked. Colleen lost her bra on her next shot, and she whipped that thing off like it was nothing to her. Justin took it and tried it on, which everybody thought was hilarious. He put a pool ball in each cup for emphasis. I had my camera at the ready, and I snapped away.
       "You ain't putting those on the Internet or in no book, either," he said.
       "I think you look stunning," Colleen said. "Have you ever thought about being a transvestite? We could have soooooo much fun if you were."
       "No," Justin said, and he took the bra off. "Kyle, I'm telling you. If anybody ever sees those pictures, your ass is dead. Now, I mean that."
       "I hear you," I said. I couldn't wait to email a copy to Craig.
       We continued playing, and Colleen scratched again and had to take off her panties. I had seen plenty of pictures of naked girls, and they didn't do anything for me. Seeing a real one naked, though, got me a little bit stirred up. I was glad I still had my clothes on. I didn't get all the way hard, but they would definitely have been able to tell something was going on if I was naked. We ended the game after that, and Justin and Colleen put their clothes back on.
       "Justin, when Jen and I first started coming over here, I could have sworn you didn't like us. Now I think you do," Colleen said.
       "All my life I've been afraid of girls," Justin said, "but you're a lot of fun. Maybe I should reconsider my sexual orientation."
       "Naw. Don't bother. You're happy the way you are," she said. "All of you seem very happy, in fact. A lot happier than your so-called straight brethren. Let's get drunk."

Chapter 26

(Kevin's Perspective)
       Thanksgiving this year was great. My parents and Craig, Cherie, and Rob came over from New Orleans for the weekend. Gene and Rita were there all day on Thursday, and so were George and Sonya. The four Townhouse Boys were there, too, and we had a great feast in the clubhouse. The kids argued over who got to take care of Rob, and that was cute.
       Kyle and Justin did something incredibly nice, I thought. They got up early Wednesday morning, drove to Pensacola, and brought Mrs. Sarah Schultz and Mrs. Rose Martinez to Emerald Beach for the holiday. Miss Sarah is Murray's grandmother, and Miss Rose is Miss Sarah's roommate at the nursing home. Murray didn't know anything about it before the fact.
       The New Orleans crowd was staying at Kyle's condo, but the two old ladies were staying at the Laguna. I cleared it with Jack Rooney beforehand, of course, and they were going to be in the Presidential Suite, which was probably the nicest hotel room in Emerald Beach. Jack hired one of the women who worked in housekeeping to be their assistant, to help with baths and dressing and such. The ladies were old and infirm, but they weren't really sick.
       The New Orleans people were going to leave in time to get to our house around one o'clock. They were in on the whole thing, and my mother was beside herself when I told her about it.
       "Kevin, whose idea was this? Kyle's?" my mom had asked.
       "I really don't know. Kyle and Justin have taken Murray to see his grandmother several times, and I think both boys really love those old ladies. It could just as easily have been Justin's idea," I said.
       "I'm so proud of them, Kevin, . . "
       She couldn't continue because she was crying so hard.
       "I know," I said. "Rick and I are very proud of them, too. I told you we have the best kids in the world."
       Long pause, with lots of gasps and sobs from Mom.
       "Are you okay?" I finally asked.
       "I'm so okay that I can't find the words for it. Do you realize . . ., " and she lost it again.
       Tim, Brian, Denny, and Sean took Murray on some kind of outing around midday on Wednesday to give us time to get the two ladies into the clubhouse. Rick and I set up lunch out there. When Kyle and Justin brought them back, all of us had a very tearful meeting.
       "You boys have gone to so much trouble for my Murray," Miss Sarah said. "Thank you all so much. I love you, just as Murray loves you."
       "Murray is a great kid in a house full of great kids, Miss Sarah. We're just so happy you and Miss Rose could be with us,” I said.
       Kyle and Justin stayed out in the clubhouse with the ladies while we went inside to greet the New Orleans people when they arrived. My family was always wonderful, but that day with Sarah and Rose they made me even prouder of them than usual.
       The younger guys came home right at 1:30, as per instructions. All of us were already in the clubhouse, and they came in. When Murray saw his Nana, the look on his face was pure joy and happiness. I had never seen anyone look as happy as he did at that moment. Kyle--and Justin, too--snapped picture after picture. That was really the emotional highlight of the Thanksgiving holiday for us.
       The whole holiday went very well. We determined that there were five generations represented at our house that weekend. There may not have been real blood connections among too many of us, but we were damn sure a family, and a pretty big one.
       Craig and Cherie had brought a playpen for Rob, and Trixie and Krewe sat in front of it, like the Secret Service guarding the president, any time Rob was in the playpen. It was as though they somehow knew he was their little boy, the kid they would have to raise, and they were Johnny-on-the-spot.
       "Did you teach them to do that, Brian?" I asked.
       "No. How could you teach dogs to guard a baby they've never seen? They're just dumb animals, Kevin," Brian said.
       "Go wash your mouth out with soap," I said.
       "What?" He was grinning big.
       "How can you call them dumb?" I asked.
       "I know. They're smart, aren't they?" he said.
       "I'll say," I said, and he laughed with delight.
       Kyle, Justin, Murray, and Denny left when the New Orleans crowd did, Sunday morning, to deliver Miss Sarah and Miss Rose home to the nursing facility. There were many tears when everybody said goodbye in the driveway. They were sad tears because we had to say goodbye to people we loved, but they were happy tears, too, because of the fun we had had and the love we had shared.
       "Kevin, come here," Miss Rose said, as they were about to leave.
       "Yes, ma'am?"
       "Kevin, what you and Rick are doing is what God would be doing if He was walking the earth. I know all of you are homosexuals. Well, let me tell you something. I have a grandson in Texas who is a homosexual. He's fourteen years old, and my son-in-law, his father, treats him like dirt. Can my grandson please come live here?"
       "Miss Rose, we've got room in our house and in our hearts for your grandson. Let me give you my card. I'm writing an address for a Web site on the back for you to give to your grandson. It's a diary about us. Read it to him, and he’ll know what to do. When will you see him?" I asked.
       "Probably at Christmas. They usually come see me then. But I talk to him on the phone sometimes," she said.
       "Tell him to call me," I said. "All of my phone numbers are on the card."
       "Thank you, Kevin. You can save my grandson. You saved Murray, and you can save Todd, too," she said. "The change in Murray since the first time I met him is remarkable."
       "We'll try our best," I said.
       "I know you will, and you will succeed," she said.

(Murray's Perspective)
       "Okay. Best and worst. This is a little game we play in our family after a trip. You got to tell the best thing you did and the worst thing you did," Kyle said.
       We were driving back to Pensacola. I was pretty sad right then because Nana was going home, but we had had a fantastic weekend.
       "Nana, you go first," Kyle said.
       "Do you have to ask? The best for me was seeing my Murray, of course."
       "Yeah, I figured that," Kyle said. "What was the worst?"
       "There was no worst. Everything was wonderful," she said.
       "All right. You don't get it, do you?" Kyle said.
       My grandmother was very, very smart, and she and Kyle had been sparring back and forth for all the time they had spent together.
       "Yes, I do get it, Kyle. I think probably the worst was seeing you every day," she said.
       "Whoa!! Whoa!!" Justin screamed. He reached over and started beeping the horn.
       "Cut it out. That's dangerous," Kyle said.
       "Shit, Kyle. She got you last, dude. Bad last, too," Justin said. He was laughing hard and jumping around. Nana and Miss Rose were laughing hard, too.
       "Nana, we play this game called Got You Last," Kyle said.
       "Murray has told me all about it, Kyle, and I got your ass last," she said.
       I had never heard my grandmother say anything like "ass" before, and I was laughing so hard I couldn't stand it. Kyle and Justin and Denny were laughing hard, too.
       "That's it. Game's over," Kyle said.
       "No! I want a turn, too," Miss Rose said. "The best for me was just getting to get out of that nursing home and being with such nice people. The worst is that my grandson doesn't live with you."
       "Would your grandson fit in with us?" Denny asked.
       "Yes. He's a homosexual. He's only fourteen, but he told his parents that's what he is. It might have been a mistake at his age. Maybe he really isn't. It doesn't matter to me, though, if he is. He needs to be away from his father. He's very abusive to Todd," she said.
       "Miss Rose, I knew I was gay when I was twelve. Fourteen isn't too young to know for sure," I said.
       "I think I knew when I was born," Justin said. "I've always been gay. I mean, I didn't have the word for it for a long time, but I knew I was something different. Fourteen ain't too young, Miss Rose. I know that."
       "Justin, I've never met two more manly men than you and Kyle. Brian and Tim are manly, too, but in a different way than you are. I think they might be more intellectual. My grandson is like you and Kyle. For most of my life, I never thought homosexual men could be like you boys. Now I know better. Kevin gave me his card, and I'm going to tell Todd to call Kevin," Miss Rose said.
       "Yes, ma'am, you do that, Miss Rose. If he comes to live with us, Justin and I will look out for him, no question about that," Kyle said. "And he'll come to see you when Murray comes to see Nana. That's just a little added benefit for him."
       "And for me, too," she said.
       "Yes, ma'am," Kyle said.

(Kyle's Perspective)
       I was so fucking busy, I didn't know when I was going to have time to take a shit. I mean, I had exams, I had Christmas, I had a double wedding. We had talked about going to Virginia the day after the wedding for a vacation. Nobody had given a second thought to the vacation, and I hadn't had time to, so that was off for this year. On top of everything else, I was working at a Christmas tree lot about fifteen hours a week for my fraternity. I was beat.
       "You need to slow down," Tim said one night.
       We had just made love, and making love to him was something that I was never not going to have time for. He was the emotional equivalent of my brain and my spinal cord.
       "How can I slow down?" I asked him.
       "How many exams do you have?"
       "Just two. I already passed my chemistry exam with a B, and my photography teacher told me I already have an A in that course and don't have to take any exam. It's just business and calculus," I said.
       "How hard is the business exam going to be?" he asked.
       "Not too hard, probably. I mean, it's stuff I've heard all my life. I can do that one easy," I said.
       "What about calc? Is that one going to be tough?" Tim asked.
       "We did more in pre-calc in high school than in this class," I said. "Babe, you know what I think the fact of the matter is? Beachside is a very good high school, compared to most. I mean, this college crap has not been all that much of a challenge to me."
       "That's very good to hear," Tim said. "I hope it's true for me, too."
       * * *
       Christmas was fabulous. We went to New Orleans like we always did for the party before Christmas, and we had a great time. It had only been a month since we had seen Rob, but I could tell some big differences in him. He was going to be a stud some day, that's for sure. He was getting big and strong.
       "Craig, if your son ever goes missing, I'll have him," I said. "I'll be somewhere in the Keys."
       "He's fine, isn't he?" Craig said.
       "He's better than fine. He's the best," I said. "He looks just like you, too."
       "I know. I'm really a lucky man," Craig said.
       "I hope to be as lucky one day," I said.
       "Kyle, you lead a charméd life, as Shakespeare said."
       "He said that about me?" I asked, just to be a fool.
       "No, dumbass. He died about a hundred years ago. He didn't even know you existed," Craig said.
       "Who was he, anyway?" I asked.
       "I don't know. Some guy," Craig said.
       "All right, Bubba! You're almost as dumb as me. Way to go!" I said.
       He and I were cracking up, and that was fun. Craig was picking up on the Emerald Beach Grumble, and I loved it. I loved him, in fact. Him, Cherie, Rob, Grandma and Grandpa. All of 'em.
       * * *
       We got home around one o'clock on Christmas Eve, and I got busy. We had already had the bachelor party for the guys. Kevin and Rick had been in charge of that. It was nice, but it wasn't much. We had it in New Orleans, and all it was, was dinner at Antoine's. Grandpa and Craig got to come to it, but it was basically just a dinner party at a fancy restaurant. We went to a couple of clubs afterward, too, but it was basically low key.
       When we got home, I got in Tim's Jeep and went to the Laguna to make sure everything was on "go" there. It was. Madeline was off, but I talked to the chef. He told me not to worry about a thing. Then I called Thelma, the Wedding Planner, and she said everything was cool. I called Jerry, and he said everything was fine on his end. The wedding was in good shape.
       Because of the wedding, the New Orleans people were going to have Christmas at our house. We had to rearrange the sleeping situation because so many people were going to be there. We basically cleared out the second floor for the visitors. My parents and Tim's parents were going to sleep with us, so we needed those four bedrooms for the guests. Denny and Murray were going to sleep together in one room on the third floor, Tim and I had another room up there, and Justin and Brian needed one, too. Sean was already up there, so he stayed put. We had gotten a baby bed from one of the hotels for little Rob. We were all set.
       The Townhouse Boys were sleeping at home, but they were going to be there with us for everything. We had talked about having them sleep at our house, too, but we would have had to use the clubhouse for them. We decided against that, though, since that was where all the meals were going to take place. That would have been too much.
       We had us a crowd Christmas Eve night. Besides being Christmas Eve, it was Kevin and Rick's third anniversary of their commitment, and it was also the rehearsal dinner for the wedding. The rehearsal had been that afternoon, and it had gone good.
       A few of our friends were out of town, but not many. Pretty much everybody was at the house that night. We got a couple of bartenders to come over to handle that, and we had a kitchen crew from one of the hotels to take care of making the food, or serving it, anyway. They cooked it at the hotel and just brought it to the house. We didn't usually have turkey for Christmas, but we did this year on Christmas Eve. The food was delicious, and we must have entertained a good seventy-five people that night. We had to borrow some extra tables and chairs from a hotel, and it was pretty tight in the clubhouse. We got 'em all in, though. It was nice, and everybody seemed to have a good time.
       It is a tradition at a wedding for the best man to propose a toast to the new couple. Some people do it at the reception, and others do it at the rehearsal dinner. We did it at the rehearsal dinner. The thing was, there were two couples, and there were a total of six best men. That would have taken too long if all six of us gave toasts.
       The best men for Jeff and Tyler were me, my daddy, Ty's daddy, and Ty's brother. The four of us got together before hand and decided I would do it. Kevin and Rick were the best men for Chuck and Tony, and they decided Rick was going to give the toast for them.
       "Are you nervous?" Rick asked me.
       "About what?" I asked.
       "About giving the toast," he said.
       "Are you nervous?" I asked.
       "A little bit," he said. "Do you have yours written out?"
       "I have an outline, but I don't need a script," I said. "Did you write yours out?"
       "Yeah."
       "How long is it going to take?"
       "About an hour," he said.
       "Rick, are you out of your damn mind? An hour? People are going to be sound asleep by the time you finish," I said.
       "Got you last," he said.
       "Okay. Really, how long is it?" I asked.
       "About three minutes," he said.
       "Good. Mine, too," I said.
       I went first, and I thought it went pretty good. I got laughs four or five times, and nobody got embarrassed. I decided not to even mention my brother, and I was glad I didn't. Rick's was good, too, but his voice sounded a little nervous at first. He got over that pretty quick, though, and he got a couple of laughs, too. Not as many as me, though.
       I wished there had been an easy way to move the tables so we could dance, but there wasn't. So, around ten o'clock, everybody went home. Of course a good many were staying there, so we partied on into the night. The crew from the hotel took care of putting away the tables and moving the other furniture back into the clubhouse. There were going to be twenty-one adult-size people there, plus Rob, so I had them leave up three tables, with seven at each one. I gave the guys drinks, and I think they liked that. I tipped them good, too.
       * * *
       We got kind of a late start Christmas day because we had all stayed up so late the night before. We hadn't gone to Midnight Mass, so Grandma and Cherie got up and went to church. The rest of us took a pass on that. I woke up with a little bit of a headache, and Justin took some aspirins, too. Craig took aspirins and seltzer, so I reckon he had a sure-enough hangover. I figured Sean was going to need 'em, too, so I shook four out of the bottle and took them up to his room. I went in without knocking, and he was still sound asleep. He was the last one up, though, and there was no telling how long he'd sleep, if I let him.
       He was naked in bed with the covers everywhere, and he had about a foot of hard dick on him. He isn’t really even as big as I am, but they all look big to me when they’re hard. I had brought him a glass of orange juice to take his aspirins with, and I set it on his nightstand.
       "Sean, wake up," I said softly, shaking his shoulder.
       He slowly opened his eyes.
       "Merry Christmas, Bubba," I said. He just groaned.
       "What time is it?" he asked in a real sleepy voice.
       "It's ten o'clock. Everybody's downstairs waiting for us. Here, take these aspirins and drink this juice," I said, handing him the pills and the glass.
       "Do I have time for a shower?" he asked.
       "Yeah, but make it quick," I said.
       "Will you take one with me?" he asked, grinning at me.
       "You never quit, do you?" I said. Sean had been acting so much cuter and nicer than he ever had before that I couldn't get over it.
       "One of these days, Kyle. One of these days. I give a hell of a good blowjob, you know?"
       "So I've heard. Are you still doing that shit?"
       "What? Giving blowjobs?"
       "Yeah," I said.
       "I'll always give blowjobs, but I'm only giving them to Scott these days," he said.
       "That's authorized," I said. "Now, hurry up. I'm not leaving here until I see you get under the water. I don't want you going back to sleep on me."
       "Okay."
       He started to get up when the headache hit him full force.
       "God," he groaned. "Why did you let me drink so much last night?"
       "'Cause I wanted you to have a bad headache. Now, let's go," I said.
       He got up and stumbled to the bathroom. I heard the water go on, but I stuck my head in there to make sure he was actually under it. He was.
       "Did you get Sean up?" Kevin asked me, once I went back downstairs.
       "Yeah," I said.
       "How was he? I think he was pretty drunk last night," he said.
       "I think he's paying the wages of sin right now. Kevin, that boy is cute, you know it?" I said.
       "I know he is. Have you noticed a change in him lately?" Kevin asked.
       "Have I ever! He's just so nice and polite and pleasant to be around. I really like him, now," I said.
       "Does your brother like him any better?" Kevin asked.
       "Who? Justin?"
       "What are y'all saying about me?" Justin asked, as he walked into the kitchen.
       "I was asking Kyle if you like Sean any better than you did," Kevin said.
       "Sean? Oh, yeah. There's been, like, this night-and-day turn-around on that boy. He's funny as hell, and I think he's pretty damn cute, too," Jus said.
       "I know," I said. "I'll bet you that doctor he goes to gave him some medicine to make him better. We might need to talk to Grandma about that."
       "Well, I can tell you, he is taking medicine, and that's the main reason he's so much better," Kevin said.
       "Well, halleluiah for that," Justin said.
       Craig came into the kitchen.
       "Are we making Bloody Marys this morning?" he asked.
       "We're not. You are," Justin said.
       "Okay. Get the stuff for 'em, Kevin," he said. "Come on, boy. Let's go."
       He said that pretty gruff, and I couldn't tell if he was teasing Kevin or not.
       "Don't you talk to me like that in my own house, Craig. I'll kick your fucking ass, man," Kevin said.
       I had never heard Kevin talk like that to anybody before. Ever. Kevin was serious, and it scared the shit out of me. I looked at Justin, and I knew he was alarmed, too.
       "Guys," Justin said.
       "I'm sorry, Kevin. I shouldn't have said that the way I did. I didn't mean it, Bro," Craig said. "I am not having a very good morning, at all."
       "I'm sorry, too, Bubba. I over reacted," Kevin said. They hugged each other.
       "Let me and Justin make the Bloody Marys," I said. "Y'all go back in the den."
       "Y'all, I'm sorry," Craig said to me and Justin. "I'm embarrassed by the way I just acted."
       "That's all right. Just get out of our way," I said.
       "Jesus Christ! I thought we were going to have a fucking throw-down right here in the kitchen on Christmas morning. That's trailer trash stuff, and I know, 'cause that's what I am. Have you ever heard Kevin talk like that before?" Justin asked.
       "No. And don't you ever call yourself trailer trash again in my presence because if you do, I'll kick your fucking ass," I said.
       "Kyle, what you just said was teasing me, and I know it. I don't think Kevin was teasing just now. That scared the crap out of me, man," he said.
       "I know. Me too. Let's hurry up and get the drinks made so they don't come back in here," I said.
       Justin and I got those drinks made quick. We decided to make three pitchers of Virgin Marys, and we took a couple of bottles of vodka out with them so everybody could add as much as they wanted to. I noticed neither Kevin nor Craig put any vodka in theirs. Sean, who was down by then looking like Mr. GQ, loaded his up with vodka. I put a shot in mine, and Justin put a shot in his, too.
       "Come outside with me, Bro," Craig said to Kevin. "There's something I want to talk to you about."
       Kevin and Craig went outside. They both lit up smokes, but I knew that wasn't the main reason they were out there. They came back inside in about fifteen minutes, arms around each other's shoulders, laughing and grinning.
       "We're okay," Kevin whispered to me and Justin, and I was damn relieved.
       "What was that all about? Did they have a fight or something?" Tim asked me.
       "Close. I'll tell you about it later," I said.
       The rest of Christmas morning was slow paced. The gifts were mostly donations to charities and crap like pairs of socks, CD's, DVD's, books, video games, and that kind of stuff. The big gift--which came from my parents, Tim's parents, Grandma and Grandpa, Craig and Cherie, and Kevin and Rick--was four jet skis to the whole Foley-Mashburn family. Those damn things cost about $10,000 each, but I knew they hadn't paid retail for 'em. That was a very nice gift, and it was like the pool table or the boat: they were things that us and our friends would have fun with for years to come.
       The big surprise of the morning was that Sean got a phone call from his parents. We had just finished brunch, and Denny answered the phone. We were out in the clubhouse, and the extension was in the kitchen.
       "Sean, it's for you," Denny said. "I think it might be your parents."
       "I doubt it," Sean said, as he got up to answer the call.
       He was gone a good thirty minutes. When he came back in, you could have lit up a small city off that grin.
       "Was it your parents?" Kevin asked.
       "Yeah," he said. That was the happiest I had ever seen him, that was for sure.
       "Is everything okay?" Kevin asked.
       "Yeah. They called from a cruise ship in the Mediterranean Sea, and they're having a great time. They wanted me to tell everybody hello, especially Kevin and Rick. So, Hello!"
       "Had you not heard from them for a while?" Grandma asked.
       "No, ma'am, not for a while. I told them who was here, and my dad said he had heard of you, Dr. Mr. Foley. They seemed impressed," he said.
       "We're happy for you, Sean. Come and talk with me on the sofa over there. You're my newest grandson, and I haven't even had a chance to talk to you," Grandma said.
       "Okay," he said, and tears were streaming down his face.
       "She's got a new one," Justin said, when they were out of hearing.
       "Yep," Grandpa said. "His parents must be arrogant pricks. Just like Ph.D.'s," he said.
       Doc started laughing so hard, I thought he was going to put his face in the grits. It was a good thing we had a heart specialist in the house, that's all I got to say.
       * * *
       Then there was the wedding the next day.
       "How are you boys feeling," my dad asked the four grooms as we were getting ready to march out.
       "I feel like I'm about to lose my lunch," Chuck said. "Trouble is, I was too nervous to eat any lunch. What the hell am I doing?"
       Daddy laughed. "Son, you're fixing to make an honest man out of this boy," he said, grabbing Tony by the arm.
       "I know. But all these people," Chuck said.
       "These are the people who love you and care about you, son. We wouldn't be here if we didn't," Dad said.
       My dad and I were standing up for Jeff. Tyler's dad and brother were standing up for him. Kevin was standing up for Chuck, and Rick was standing up for Tony. Everybody in the wedding party was in tuxedos, and, I had to admit, we looked good.
       The service lasted about thirty minutes. There were a couple of readings from scripture, and my mother and Sonya took care of those. Each couple had written their vows, and they had done a good job with that, too. Jerry blessed their rings, and then he blessed them.
       "Almighty Father, you created us in your image and likeness, each and every one, and gave each of us unique gifts for love and service. Bless the unions we celebrate today, and bless these four men in their love and commitment to each other. May their devotion and fidelity bear witness to the unity of the Blessed Trinity and to Your love for Your people. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."
       The reception went off without a hitch. The food was as good as any I'd ever had at a hotel, and I ate a good bit of it, too. Tim and I danced together a bunch, and one time I even did a slow dance with my daddy.
       "Are you believing you and I are dancing in front of all these people?" he asked me.
       "I know. Daddy, just don't get a hard-on, okay?" I said.
       He laughed so hard, we had to stop dancing for a few seconds.
       "Kyle, you'll say anything, won't you?"
       "I will to you," I said.
       "Thank you, son. That means a lot to me. Your mama and I are so proud of you and Tim. Of all you guys, really. This is the way it's supposed to be, isn't it?"
       "I think so," I said.
       Cherie and Grandma "cut in" on us right then, so we danced with them.
       "What did you say that made him laugh so much?" Cherie asked me as we were dancing.
       "I told him not to get a hard-on," I said.
       She laughed.
       "Do I need to say the same thing to you?" she asked.
       "No comment," I said.
       The thing was supposed to be over at 8:30, and we were home by nine o'clock. I got out of the monkey suit I was wearing and put on jeans. We partied in the clubhouse until late that night.
       "What you think they're doing?" Justin asked me once we were out in the clubhouse.
       "Who?"
       "The four guys. The grooms," he said.
       "What would you be doing, stud?" I asked.
       He laughed a little.
       "I think you and me are on the same wave length," he said.
       "I'll bet you our four brothers are on the same wave length, too," I said.
       "Where are they going for their honeymoons? Do you know?" he asked.
       "You didn't hear about that? They're going on a cruise. To the Caribbean," I said.
       "Now where exactly is that?" he asked.
       "I don't know. It's south of here, though. I do know that much. It's where the hurricanes come from," I said.
       "I hope they don't get caught in one," he said.
       "They won't. Hurricane season ended November 30th. It goes from June 1st till November 30th, so it's over for this year," I said.
       "That's good. Are we going on a trip?"
       "What you mean? During these holidays?"
       "Yeah," he said. "Didn't Rick or somebody say something about us going to Virginia?"
       "Yeah, but nobody did anything about it. Besides, I'm flat worn out. I don't know about you, but I plan to sleep all day tomorrow," I said.
       "Shit, you'll be up at the crack of dawn," he said.
       "I don't think so. The Foleys aren't leaving until Monday, and there's no reason to get up early," I said.
       "Do you like those jet skis?" he asked.
       "Oh, yeah. I forgot about those. We can rev those up tomorrow," I said.
       "Ain't it too cool for them?"
       "Not with wet suits. Bubba, you're going to love 'em. You can go up to about forty miles an hour on those things. Maybe more on those new ones. They're great," I said.
       "Cool. You know something, Kyle? I think I'm about the luckiest boy in the world," Justin said.
       "I think we're all about the luckiest boys in the world."
       "Kyle, would you dance with me?" Justin asked.
       "I would love to dance with you, Bubba," I said. "I'm going to tell you like I told my daddy. Just don't get a hard-on."
       "You really told your daddy that? What did he say?" Justin asked.
       "He laughed his ass off," I said.
       "Well, I ain't making no promises about that," Jus said.
       "Neither me," I said.

Thanks for hanging in there with me, guys. Many of you have written to comment on the story, and some of your ideas have helped shape the tale. All of your comments are appreciated. I'd like to say a special thanks to Robb, the webmaster at www.crvboy.com, for his encouragement and his sharp-eyed editing skills, and to Aaron, a special friend in Kentucky, for his equally keen editing of this “College Daze” segment. As usual, I can't predict when the next segment of the story will be ready, but one will be forthcoming. Take care.

Love,
Brew brew_drinker23@yahoo.com