The pesky little detective was still trying to quiz me at lunch break, but my sullen silence soon got the message through that I wasn't in the mood for small talk -- or any kinda talk that threatened to perforate my defence. What was all that bullshit he was going on about? At least try to talk to the other guys? What for? I didn't need them, and I figured they didn't need me. I'd read something somewhere from Jane Austin: "I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal." Yeah, that made sense to me. Besides, most dudes made it clear that they didn't like my attitude. So what was I gonna do? Change? Like fucking hell, I was. What you see is what you get. And the same went for Kyle -- if he didn't like the way I was, fuck him. Well, maybe not quite. The cheeky bastard had a habit of bending my rules and getting away with it, dammit.
"What are you giggling about?"
"Nothing, Kyle. Just thinking about something."
"Steph phoned last night -- asked if I wanted to go clubbing with you guys tomorrow night."
"She asked you? Jeez, you've got damn pull. How do you do it?"
"I dunno," he shrugged. "Magnetic personality, I guess."
Friday morning's session in the gym was pretty cool. Kyle and I hit the bag around a bit and worked up a good sweat. "Remember the first time I invited you to hit the bag with me?"
"Yeah, I was stressed out big time."
"I'm glad you said yes."
"I just am."
That night at Corners was a total rave. We were all there -- Carol and me, Steph and Kyle, Steve and his girl, plus half the fucking town. Steve and his chick had to leave early, so the rest of us decided to hit the Purple Turtle where I treated Kyle to some fancy drinks. He was basically a beer drinker, and I figured he needed an education. Well, it probably wasn't my coolest ever move, 'cause the guy was totally slaughtered after just a few vodkas. Fortunately, Steph didn't mind all that much -- she'd never seen him trashed before, and thought it was kinda funny.
It was pretty late -- probably close to 3am -- when we finally managed to thumb a lift home, and pour Kyle into the car. The guys were cool and drove us all the way to Steph's house where we left her, then walked the rest of the way to Carol's. By that time, Kyle was completely away with the pixies. He was so damn legless, I had to throw him over my shoulder. Not a good move. We were almost at Carol's place when he puked down the back of my shirt.
"Well, if you hadn't bought him all those drinks…"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah."
After Carol had washed and tumble-dried my clothes, she undressed Kyle and laid him out on the floor. The guy was still unconscious.
"How come you didn't leave his boxers on?"
"I just wanted to see what Steph ate."
"I can understand why she got hungry all of a sudden."
Yeah, I guessed my bud did have a pretty cool looking dick. Maybe not quite as big as mine, but pretty awesome. Cut, smooth and close to six inches even when it was lazy. Anyway, the sight of Kyle's meat, and probably the thought of Steph's lips riding it, put Carol in the mood for some wicked sex.
Carol was in the shower the next morning when my bud slowly and painfully stirred back to life. I watched the puzzled look on his face as he tried to figure out where he was, and how come he was naked on the floor of Carol's bedroom.
"Carol undressed you."
"She could've left my boxers on."
"She wanted to check out your cock."
"Bet she was impressed, huh?"
"Made her horny as hell, so while you were sleeping, we kinda…"
"Damn! Why didn't you wake me? I could've had a good gawk at you humping her."
"You're fucking twisted," I laughed.
There was a lot about Kyle that I didn't understand. Most bewildering of all was his capacity to be so damn honest. He'd open his mouth and out would come crazy stuff that I could never say in a million fucking years. How much truth was in his jest? Another thing that had me wondering was why I'd carried him on my shoulder. I'd never done anything like that before. I was used to looking after Number One. And I wasn't even mad when he'd puked down my back. I wasn't exactly overjoyed, either, but… y'know. Maybe, for the first time in my life, I was experiencing what it was like to have a real bud. It was a cool feeling, but also kinda scary. For all of my seventeen years, I'd practiced being unassailable, and now some dude was beginning to make be feel vulnerable.
As usual, back at school, Kyle and I were sitting together at break.
"Hey, Mark, thanks for looking after me on Friday night. If it hadn't been for you… well, who knows? Anyway, I just want you to know something… I'm here if you ever need to chat about stuff that's bugging you. K? And, by the way, I figure I owe you an explanation about why I baited Alan that time." Kyle went on to tell me how Alan had messed with Wingnut, and had smacked the kid across the face when he complained.
"Hey, if you'd told me that before, I wouldn't have given you a chance to get to that asshole."
"That's why I didn't tell you."
"Is that the little guy you spent your money on for a surfboard?"
"Why did you do that?"
"He's like a little bro, and I think he's a cool little dude."
"Fuck! For a surfboard, I'll almost blow you. I said 'almost'." Well, my own joke cracked me up completely, and I laughed out loud for the first time that day. But Kyle came back, quick as a flash.
"Hmmm, now that's an offer I'll have to think about. When do you wanna start surfing?"
"Fuck off, Kyle, you're almost being serious."
"OK, for some surf wax, I can jack you?"
Kyle had me guffawing like crazy until my mind filled with thoughts from the past, then I became serious again. "You ever jack someone else before?"
"You really wanna know?"
"If what? You tell me and I'll tell you."
"Yeah, I have… so now you know one of my best kept secrets."
"The little dude?"
"No! Don't be fucking stupid!"
Why didn't I believe him? But I decided not to pursue that particular line of questioning any further. "Someone I know?"
"Now who's being quizzy? Anyway, you said you'd tell me something."
I never thought the day would come when I would admit this to anybody. "I have, too." And maybe I shouldn't have blabbed. Kyle went as quiet as a mouse, and I almost had to shake him to bring him outa his trance. "Kyle? You there? Earth calling Kyle! I bet you're fucking disappointed."
His hazel eyes focused on mine as I expected the worst. "Why should I be if I have too? Do you still?"
"No, don't be crazy! It's like cool when you're little, but now guys would think I was gay. Do you?"
"Think you're gay? No."
"I mean, do you still jack other guys?"
"Don't you worry about what guys will say about you?"
"Who's to know? Anyway, you've already called me a faggot."
"That had nothing to do with anything. You know why I did that."
"So, are you gonna tell Carol or Steph?"
"I'm not fucking stupid! And then lose you as a friend?" What was I saying? It was as though the words spilling outa my mouth were outa control, but it was too late to stop. "Anyway, you could tell the whole world that I've jacked a guy, and been jacked by a guy, if you wanted to screw my life."
"By the way, you've got a boner." Shit! I had this massive bulge in my pants that I hadn't even noticed! "Do you feel weird about it?" he asked.
"About jacking another guy? Yeah. And there's only one, just in case you're wondering."
"Yeah, I had the guilts forever about it. Thought I was a freak."
Then the bell went for class. "Hey, am I the only person you've told about it?"
"Yep. I haven't even told the person I jacked, yet," he laughed.
"That's a pretty fucking huge secret to be telling me, Kyle. Are you worried?"
"Should I be?"
"Then I'm not worried. You're my friend and, one day, when you wanna tell me something, I'll be there for you. Just remember that."
I was totally pissed that the bell had rung and cut short our convo. We were just beginning to chill and it was so damn cool.
As we walked back to class, I kept looking at this teenager who had become more than a bud. In some ways, despite his youth, he was like the father I'd never had -- somebody I could be free with and confide in. Sure, we had a long way to go, and I wasn't about to tell him every single fucking detail about my life, but it was a start.
There was a certain wisdom about Kyle that seemed to contradict his age. Hell, he wasn't even shaving yet! But, although the words he spoke weren't from the classics, they made a lotta sense. More importantly, they were directed at me, for me. And I guessed that was what made Kyle so different. Most guys talked about chicks or movies or music or sport or whatever, but Kyle was really interested in me, and it showed big time. Why me, though? Was I a challenge? Maybe that was it. He had tons of friends already and, from what I could gather, he made them easily. Yeah, that had to be it. He was a surfer who loved the challenge of an impossible ride, and I was the human version of an impossible ride. He wanted to tame me, and visit my 'green room'.
Well, Kyle had often talked about the "washing machine" and being dumped by waves that were beyond his riding skills. Maybe he would also discover that I wasn't so easy to ride, either. Although I was getting somewhat attached to the spiky-haired comedian, I wasn't prepared to give him an easy run. Being kind and considerate to my fellow man wasn't part of my nature. Well, it hadn't been until I met him. OK, so he was influencing me, and occasionally I'd modified my normal behaviour because of him. But the ride wasn't over yet. And he was still a long way from my 'green room'.
"I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal." Well, Kyle was the kinda dude who was gonna be agreeable whether I liked it or not. I was in a trap. The really weird thing was, sometimes I didn't mind being there.
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