Date: Thu, 27 Dec 2012 16:45:53 -0500
From: R J <sirsquidsalot1994@hotmail.com>
Subject: Austin Growing Up - Chapter 1

The students were eagerly awaiting the final bell of the school year when
about 10 minutes into the final class period, the Principal's voice came
over the pa speakers startling everyone with his words.  "Attention
Teachers and Students, we are initiating a lock-down at this time.  All
Teachers and Students are to remain in their classrooms until further
notice.  Also, please be advised that there is police activity in the
building and you are to follow the instructions of law enforcement.  Again,
this is a lock-down.  Teachers please follow lock-down procedures and
report any discrepancies.  Thank you."  Mrs. Badaloto leapt from her seat
behind her wooden desk and locked the door.

"Alright everyone, quiet please!  Samantha, would you please close the
blinds?"  And with that, Mrs. B quickly took roll call to ensure that all
of her charges were, indeed, present.  They were.  Nobody skipped Mrs. B's
class, ever.  Mrs. Badaloto or Mrs. B for short, was a middle aged veteran
of Eau Gallie High School.  She showed respect to all of her students and
in return, she was very highly respected, too.

"Well, it looks like we're going to be here for a little while longer, so
why don't we continue our discussion of..."  She was abruptly interrupted
by loud knocking on her door.  "Mrs. Badaloto, this is Sergeant Caldwell of
the Melbourne Police Department.  Please open the door!"

"Oh my!"  She stated more to herself than to her class, as they began to
rustle around in their seats and talk among themselves.  No doubt
hypothesizing why the police were in the school.  "Everyone stay in your
seats and be quiet!" she demanded and the class quickly complied.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry to barge in here like this but we need to speak with
three of your students.  Are Patric Peebles, Shawn Craig, and Austin
Kennedy in this class?"  My entire body went completely numb at the sound
of my name, Austin Kennedy, being spoken by that cop.

"Why yes.  Yes they are.  Austin, Shawn, Patrick they need to see you out
in the hall."  The whispers and gasps became louder as the three of us
slowly made their way to the door.  All three knowing exactly why we were
being singled out and all three knowing exactly what fait awaited us in
that hallway.  Standing just outside the classroom door was the Principal,
Head Football Coach, The Chief of Police, and the Dean of Students.  None
of whom looked happy to be there.

The Dean, Mr. Greene spoke first.  "Boys, do you have any idea why we want
to speak with you?"  Our heads hung low as I cast my gaze to the floor.
"Well?" asked Coach O'Brian "Answer him!"

Almost in unison, the three of us mumbled our affirmative response of
either yes, yeah or my even more intelligent "uh huh."  Mr. Greene then
continued "I'm surprised at you three.  You've never been any trouble
before today.  Why did you do it?" he asked but didn't wait for their
answer.  "What has he ever done to you?  Hell, he's half you size and the
three of you had to gang up on him?  You had better pray he lives!"  That
final statement drained the blood from my face and send a chill up my
spine.  "What had I done?" I asked myself willing the tears forming in my
eyes to dry.

"W--W--What do you mean 'hope he lives' sir?"  I asked, my voice cracking
with fear and sorrow.

The Police Chief spoke up "He's a diabetic, boys.  Do you know what happens
to diabetics when they are exposed to excessive heat without food, water or
medication?  Come on, we need to bering you down to the station."  Then a
Sergeant Caldwell and two other officers handcuffed the three of us and the
Sergeant read us our right...

"You have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say or do may be used
against you in a court of law.  You have the right to consult an attorney
before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during
questioning now or in the future.  If you cannot afford an attorney, one
will be appointed for you before any questioning, if you wish.  If you
decide to answer any questions now, without an attorney present, you will
still have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an
attorney.  Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them
to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney
present?"

The Chief then stated that they won't be asking any further questions until
our parents are present.  We were escorted into awaiting police cars and
driven, separately, to the police station where we were fingerprinted,
photographed, processed and formally charged with aggravated battery, false
imprisonment, bullying and a handful of minor charges.

Shortly after the arrest, the lockdown was lifted and all but the three of
us were sent home for the summer.  Word spread like wildfire about the
arrests and that Trevor Lindsay had died.

One by one, each of us were called into an Interview Room with our parents
and an attorney.  Each was asked to write a detailed statement as to our
involvement in this incident.  Neither of us denied involvement, so the
police and the State Attorney were simply trying to determine culpability
before deciding on how to proceed.  It wasn't until after each of us
recanted that day's events and were released into our parents' custody that
the news of Trevor's release from the hospital made it's way to the police.
To say that I was relieved is the understatement of the century, but I
still felt like the worst had yet to happen.  On the way home my parents
didn't utter a single sound.  Once home I went to my room and fell asleep
ignoring the 17 text messages, 65 Facebook notifications and the 11 missed
calls on my phone, all from friends wanting to know what happened and If I
was okay - but mostly people wanting to know what happened.  I just wanted
to sleep.

In the morning, 6AM to be exact, my Mom and Dad forced me out of bed to
face their wrath.  To say that my parents were livid would have been a
gross underestimate.  I sat quietly at the kitchen table in nothing but a
pair of boxer shorts as, first, my Mom spoke of the embarrassment and shame
that I caused and how disappointed she was of me.  Then it was Dad's turn
and he listed the activities that I'd spend my summer forgoing "Absolutely
no Facebook, Youtube, computer, iPod, cell phone, car, music, television,
going out unless accompanied by us, no friends coming over, no swimming
pool, and you will be in bed every evening by 10 and up every morning by 6.
If you have no chores around the house, you'll come to my office and work
there."

I knew better than to object, rather I simply nodded my head and muttered a
soft "yes sir, yes ma'am."  I knew that I had screwed things up and I knew
that I had to pay the price.  "I'm really sorry.  Really I am."

"One more thing, son" Dad said "You need to get dressed because you're
going over to the Lindsay's house and you're going to apologize for what
you did and you're going to offer to work off your debt to them, as well."
The look of horror and shock must have been obvious because before I could
utter a sound Mom simply and very coldly spoke "Don't even think about
saying anything.  Just do as you were told, if you want to continue living
here, you'll do as you are told."  That sent a chill deep into my soul, as
this was the first time I'd seen this side of my parents.  I always knew
they were heartless business people, but now they were turning their venom
on their own child.

After a very quick shower, I emerged in the kitchen dressed in a white polo
shirt that clung to my chiseled upper body, with hair still damp from the
shower, blue eyes a bit darker and clouded by the day's events, a pair of
tan cargo shorts that highlighted my firm butt and provided just a hint of
bulge in the front.  Tan and muscular legs, developed from years of
football and baseball, were covered in bark hair but didn't seem too fury
and were accented by a new pair of black zig zags and no-show socks.  "Yeah
I look hot" I thought to myself.

When Dad pulled into their driveway, I noticed that their house was much
smaller than ours and was in need of repair.  The paint was faded and
pealing in some places, the window on the front door was broken and covered
with cardboard, the grass was in need to mowing and the flower beds were
overgrown.  I followed Dad, who walked with determination, to the door and
rang the bell.  It seemed like 20 minutes had passed before the door
finally opened.  A very frail old man in a wheelchair answered the door.

"Mr. Lindsay?"

"Yes, how may I help you?" he answered with a quizzical look and a sad
smile.

"I'm Marty Kennedy, Austin's father."

"Oh, I see.  What can I do for you, Mr. Kennedy" his sad smile now very
obviously a frown.

"I brought my son over here because he wanted to apologize to you and your
grandson.  We're not trying to persuade you to drop the charges, he got
himself into this mess and he'll damn sure suffer the consequences as far
as my wife and I are concerned.  But, we raised Austin to always do the
right thing and apologizing for his bad deeds against your family is a step
in the right direction, so, Son..."

"Um, well, s-s-sir, I-I-I am really very sorry for what I did to your
grandson.  I really didn't..."

He cut me off "I'm not the person to whom you should apologize.  My
grandson is upstairs in his room, why don't you go to him and apologize?"
he said, more so than asked while pushing back away from the door so as to
allow room for me to pass.  As I entered I couldn't help but notice how bad
the inside of the house looked.  The walls were dirty and in need of paint,
there were holes where the old man had punched with his wheelchair, the
kitchen was a mess.  As I walked up the stairs the second floor was in
stark contrast to that of the lower level.  It was clean and looked to have
been hardly lived in.  At the top of the stairs there were two doors to my
right and two to my left.  One of those was closed and I could hear music
from behind the door so I slowly crept to the closed door and knocked
softly and received no reply.  I knocked again, a bit harder and louder and
still got no reply.  Then I tried the doorknob to open the door and that's
when I saw him, for the first time, like a beautiful human being.  He was
asleep on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts and
black no-show socks.  His right arm was resting underneath his head showing
off a light dusting of hair on his armpit.  His eyes were closed tight and
he had the most angelic smile on his face.  His smooth chest and stomach
were pasty white and moved rhythmically with his breathing.  I allowed my
gaze to continue surveying his beautiful,almost feminine, body.  There
didn't seem to be any bulge in the front of his shorts, but I really didn't
expect there to be, because he was very small.  I noticed his legs,
hairless but seemed to be well defined for his size.  I had to resist the
urge to caress his thy.  He looked so peaceful at the moment.

Not wanting to wake this sleeping beauty, I slowly retreated from his room
and closed the door behind me.  It was at that very moment I decided that I
was going to do everything in my power to protect him from anyone and
everyone that tried to hurt him again.  I just had to get to know him.
Hell, I didn't even know his name.

I was startled out of my thoughts when I felt a violent shove against my
chest causing me to lose my balance and fall backwards onto the floor.
"What the hell are you doing in my house!"  My not-so-sleeping beauty spat
with what appeared to be fire in his eyes.

I crawled to my knees in front of him, not wanting to appear as a threat.
"This must look ridiculous, me being over six feet tall and weighing 190
pounds, on my knees in front of the most beautiful creature I've even seen
in my life.  Wait!  What?  No, I mean on my knees in front of this scrawny
little kid begging for forgiveness" I thought in an instant.

"Listen, I just came here with my dad to..."

"To what?  Buy us off with your money so you can stay on the freaking
football team?  God, you're pathetic.  You're just a dumb jock who is
spoiled and gets his daddy to buy his way out of trouble.  Well, fuck you!"
he spat and glared at me.  My shoulders dropped, my head hung low and I
just mumbled "I'm so sorry.  I really am sorry.  Maybe someday I'll be able
to prove to you how sorry I am.  I know you'll probably never forgive me,
and I don't blame you.  I've been a real prick and you never ... never
deserved that kind of treatment."  I looked up into his eyes and held his
gaze for well over a full minute before he finally spoke.  Still locked in
a stare he just said, very softly "I believe you are sorry" before walking
past me and going downstairs.  I quickly followed.

The ride home was awkwardly silent, but I was more determined to make thing
right.  "Dad?"

Sigh.  "What?"

"Dad, I am so sorry for all of this.  I promise I'm going to do whatever it
takes to make you and Mom proud of me again.  I'm s-s-sorr..." I began to
cry.  My dad put an arm around me and squeezed.

"We are proud of you, son.  That's why we came down on you the way we did.
We love you very much, you just disappointed us but your mom and I both
know you'll do what's right and you'll take the consequences like a man.
Now, let's get home, you've got some work to do."

"Yes sir" I said with a smile.  I knew I was going to be spending some long
hours at his house, and would prove to him that I'm a good guy.


To be continued

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