South Africa
Part 4

I was home doing some chores around the house when Kyle arrived on Saturday morning. "Hey, Wingnut, you wanna get wet?"

"Cool!"

As we walked down to the beach, he told me that his folks had some friends coming around for a barbecue, but that he preferred to be surfing with me. Woohoo! He was getting to be my best friend. "How did the strip thingy go last night?"

"Totally rad! Ross, a guy from the swim team, won first prize. The chicks went totally ballistic. There must've been about a hundred people there, and they were playing all this loud techno music. At the end of his routine, he got off the stage -- it was in a big, old barn -- and danced in the crowd. Then he went up to his girlfriend. She pulled his Speedos down, flopped out his throbber and kissed it. The whole fucking joint erupted!"

"Did you come second?"

"Nah, Steve got second prize, and I reckon he deserved it. He's got an awesome bod. He was so damn drunk, though, it's a wonder he didn't fall down. Mark got third.."

"Were you drunk?"

"Yeah. I was totally pissed at Steve and his girlfriend so I drank a stack of beer. He offered me a reefer but I didn't take it. Anyway, when I danced I went over to where Steve and his girlfriend were sitting and she put her hand on my crotch. I asked her if she wanted some and she smiled. Steve just sat there like it was nothing. If I'd been him, I would've punched my fucking lights out. So she must be a slut."

"You sound jealous."

"I do? Maybe I am. She thinks she owns the fucker. Anyway, they took off without even saying goodbye. Then this other girl got all friendly and we went around to the back of the barn where she blew me. The next thing I knew it was morning. There was a shower out back of the barn. I couldn't give a fuck who was watching so I stripped and got clean. Everybody was gawking at me. Then Ross and his bud gave me a ride home."

The first thing I noticed when we'd arrived at the beach was that Steve wasn't there. It felt weird that we weren't a trio. Kyle asked a friend if we could borrow his stick. "Sure, dude. But you pay for any dings. OK?" It was a rad day's surfing, and I was getting better with every ride. Kyle seemed happy enough, but I couldn't help wondering how he was feeling about Steve, and remembering what my dad had told me about Bobby Anderson.

I didn't see Kyle all of Sunday, so I went around to Brian's house and we kinda fooled around. "Do you think we're gonna be jacking each other off when we're big guys? Y'know, like fifteen or sixteen?"

"Never thought about it. Why?"

"I was just wondering. I know a couple of guys but I don't know if they do stuff. One of them's got a girlfriend."

"Ew!"

"Yeah, it's weird, huh? You can't have any fun with girls, except maybe for the ones who surf. But mostly they don't wrestle or fool around like we do."

"So why do guys get married?"

"It's a weird thing that happens in their brain, like they can't control it. It's not gonna happen to me, though."

"Me neither. Yuk!"

It was Monday before Kyle and I went surfing again. He was really proud of me 'cause I'd learned to bottom out, and even managed a floater. Was I gonna take Steve's place as his bud? I couldn't stop thinking about that 'cause I wanted Kyle to be happy -- and he always seemed happy when he was with me. Trouble was, he wasn't always around and I missed him when he was away.

I was waiting for him one afternoon as he arrived home from swim training. "Hi ya, Kyle. How'd it go?"

"Pretty cool. It's hard work, though. The coach drives us to the limit. It was like swimming through fucking syrup. We've got an inter-school meet coming up soon, so we've gotta be fit."

"No surfing this afternoon, right? Wind's blowing a damn gale."

"Yeah, surf's totally blown away."

I followed Kyle through the house to his room where he changed clothes. I'd seen him nude plenty of times before, but I was always fascinated by his muscles -- the way they bulged and popped and rippled under his smooth, tanned skin -- especially the long ones that ran down the sides of his ribcage. He called them lats.

It was now or never. "So, do you jack off?"

"Huh?" Kyle was surprised by my question.

"Fuck! Sorry, man. It kinda just slipped out." I could feel my face going as red as a beet, and I lowered my voice. "It's just that all the boys at school talk about it and I thought it was OK."

"It's cool, Wingnut, I was just surprised to hear the question. Why did you ask?"

"Well, the guys at school say that if you jack off a lot then you get a bigger dick. And your dick is fucking huge, so I thought… well, you know."

"Yeah, Wingnut," he laughed. "I jack off every night in bed. Hey, I've seen your furniture, bud, so I figure you must've been giving it a workout ever since you left your mom's womb. Have you?"

"Maybe not since then but, yeah, I jack off."

"What do you think about?"

"Comics."

"Huh?"

"A guy at school has got these Japanese comics that show these young guys having sex with girls, so that's what I think about 'cause it looks hot."

"You said you didn't like girls."

"Yeah, they're a pain, but they look cool in the comics -- 'specially with some guy doing stuff. So what do you think about?"

He smiled and I wondered for a second if he was gonna say Steve, but he didn't. "I guess most of the time I think about girls."

Most of the time? I was tempted to ask him what he'd meant by that, but I figured he might be pissed at me. "Have you got a girlfriend you haven't told me about? Like when you're away and I don't see you?"

"Had one."

"Bet you've got lots."

"Had one," he insisted.

"Ever been with a boy?"

"Why?"

"'Cause Brian and me do stuff."

"Fuck! Did you guys do each other?"

"No way, man! Then I'd be gay!"

"Says who?"

"All the guys say so -- if you touch another boy then you're gay."

"Crap, man. What about all the rugger guys smelling each other's nuts in the scrum?"

Kyle's question really cracked me up. "That's different 'cause I play rugger but I don't smell the guys. Anyway, we all stink when we're playing rugger."

"Wanna swim?"

"Cool! I'll run home and get my Speedos. Are we gonna wrestle again?"

"You didn't need them the other day."

"But your mom's home now."

"She won't mind."

"I'd better get my Speedos. Back in flash."

We had a way cool time in the pool, splashing, wrestling and laughing, before Kyle said that he had a stack of homework and that I'd better leave him to it. But I wanted to hang around for as long as possible -- it was so damn wicked just being with him -- so I asked him if I could stay in his room and listen to music while he worked.

"Yeah, I guess."

Watching Kyle wasn't like watching anybody I'd ever known. Even when he did homework there was something awesome about him, and it felt wicked to be in his room with him, like he was close to me. "Does Steve like being with you like this?"

"He used to."

"Not any more?"

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Am I bugging you?"

Kyle turned and faced me. "Sorry, Wingnut. It's just that I'm totally pissed with Steve and his girlfriend. Not you. You're cool." He gave me a big, cheesy grin before he continued. "You know something? If I ever get married and have a son, I'd like him to be just like you. And that's the truth. You're tough and you're friendly and you're… well, not bad looking."

"Good looking!"

"OK," he laughed, and roughed up my hair, "good looking. You've probably got the girls at school falling all over each other. Yeah, yeah, I know you think that girls are a pain, but I'll bet they don't think that about you."

A little later mom came to fetch me, and thanked Kyle for teaching me how to surf and stuff. "I don't know what you've done to my son, Kyle, but he never stops talking about you! Kyle this, Kyle that. Anyway, thanks for looking after my son like a big brother. I appreciate it."

Later that night, I talked with my dad again. "Steve's got a girlfriend."

"That's nice."

"No, it isn't. He doesn't hang with Kyle any more. It's like when you met mom, and Bobby Anderson wasn't your bud any more."

"Who would you rather have around here? Mom or Bobby?"

Well, that question totally floored me. I had no choice but to answer "mom". And if mom wasn't here, I wouldn't be here either. It didn't seem fair.

Just before bed time, I wrote Kyle a note in my best handwriting. "Dear Kyle, I know you're really pissed off about Steve, but I can be your friend. I don't want you to be lonely. We can surf together and have a totally rad time together. I think you're so cool and…."

I screwed up the note and threw it in the bin. Kyle would've thought I was totally lamo if I'd given him a wussy note like that.

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 Wingnut Part 5