Date: Tue, 27 May 2014 22:32:50 -0400
From: Ronyx <ronyx@woh.rr.com>
Subject: Birds Don't Sing Before a Storm   Chapter 25

The following is a work of fiction. Any similarities to anyone are purely
coincidental. The story is intended for a mature audience. It may contain
profanity and references to gay sex. If this offends you, please leave and
find something more suitable to read. The author maintains all rights to
the story. Do not copy or use without written permission. Write
ronyx@themustardjar.com with your comments. Ronyx is a prolific Nifty
author. Visit my personal website at www.themustardjar.com for more
stories.


Birds Don't Sing Before a Storm     Chapter 25


I shrugged my shoulders and replied, "Yeah, sure." I didn't want to seem
too anxious to talk. Curtis seemed like the kind of guy who wanted to
control the conversation. I knew he would speak only when he wanted.

He reached for the remote control and turned the channel to ESPN. I wanted
to tell him I was watching a movie, but didn't. We watched a college
basketball game for several minutes before he finally spoke.

"What you saw last week ain't what you think," he muttered as he continued
to watch the television.

"You already told me that," I replied without looking over. "You're not
gay."

"Right," he nodded. Several more minutes went by in silence.

Finally, I got tired of the game we were playing, so I become more
direct. "So, you're saying you're completely straight?" I couldn't
understand how a guy could have sex with another guy and still consider
himself straight.

It surprised me when he shrugged his shoulders and replied, "I don't know."

His response piqued my curiosity. It was the first time he might be
admitting he was gay. "So what's that mean?" I asked. "You're either gay or
straight."

I looked over and saw a confused look on his face as he thought about my
statement. He rested his head on the sofa and sighed. Then he asked, "Can
you maybe be a little of both?"

I asked, "You mean like bisexual?"

He sat forward, put his head in his hands and mumbled softly, "I don't know
what the fuck I mean anymore." He started rubbing his head. "I got all this
stupid shit going on inside my head anymore."

"What kind of shit?"

"I don't know," he replied as he continued to rub his hands over his
head. "Shit, shit."

I sat up and looked over at him. It seemed like we were finally getting
somewhere. "You mean like sex shit?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied angrily, "Like sex shit."

"So you're afraid you're gay?"

"I don't know," he responded. "Maybe." He sat up and stared at me. "I mean
I like what me and Pip do. I mean, we've been doing it for so long, it just
seems okay. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I think."

"But then some of the times," he continued, "I think about girls, too."

"So you like fucking girls?" I figured since he was talking openly, I might
as well talk openly as well.

"Yeah," he replied. "Well, I've thought about it."

His comment surprised me. By the way he acted, I had assumed that he
already had experience with a girl. "You've never had sex with a girl?"

His face reddened, and he admitted, "Well, technically, no." Then he added
excitedly, "But I've made it to second base, though."

"Second base?"

"Yeah," he replied excitedly. "Monica let me feel her tits once when we
were at the theater a couple of months ago."

"Did you get excited?"

"Hell yeah, Man." He reached down and rearranged his thickening cock. As
much as I wanted, I tried not to look down. I didn't want him to think I
wanted to have sex with him. "I got this enormous boner. I even got Monica
to feel it." He started laughing. "Man, when I got home I had to take a
shower and jerk off."

I asked, "So you could fuck a girl if you had to?"

He sat back and shook his head. His excitement disappeared. "I dunno," he
admitted. "I mean, I think I can, but I'm scared." He sat up and looked at
me. "I mean, what if I try, and I can't get it up?"

I laughed, took a chance and looked down at the bulge in his pants. "You
don't seem to have a problem talking about it."

His face reddened, and he said, "Yeah, well talking about it and doing it
is two different things. With Pip, we just do it and have fun." He wrinkled
his face and added, "A girl might expect more."

I thought a minute and then suggested, "Maybe you're not gay, like you
said. Maybe it's just something you and Pip do, and it don't mean too
much." I then asked, "Have you messed around with any other guys?"

I could tell by the look that came over his face that he had. He sat back
and rested his head on the sofa. Finally, he sat up and faced me. "You
swear to God that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to say?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "I told you, you can trust me."

"Okay." He sat back and didn't say anything for a minute. Finally, he said,
"Me and Mike used to have a thing going on."

I didn't want to sound too surprised. "You and Mike?"

"Yeah," he said. "About two years ago."

"Do you still have sex with him?" That would answer many of the questions I
had about Mike's attitude toward me.

"No, Man," he replied as he shook his head "He came out to everyone and
started acting too gay. If we still messed around, everyone would think I
was gay, too."

"But, you're still friends?"

"Yeah," he replied, "But I keep my distance. You know what I mean?" I don't
think he meant it, but I was insulted when he added, "It would be like me
hanging out with you. Everyone would think I was gay."

I rested my head on the sofa and muttered, "Yeah, thanks a lot."

He scooted nearer to me. "No, I didn't mean it like that," he said
excitedly. "I mean you're a really cool guy and all. If you weren't gay, we
could probably be good friends."

I rolled my eyes and said sarcastically, "Thanks."

"Oh, Man," he moaned. "I'm really fucking up here. Ain't I?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Just a little bit."

"Okay," he said as he scooted nearer to me. "I mean, you're being really
cool and all. And you're taking the time to help me." He gently touched my
arm. "I mean, you're helping me get this shit in my head straightened out."
He gripped my arm. "I'm really sorry. Okay? I'm just all confused right
now."

"It's okay," I assured him. "I kind of figured you didn't like me because
I'm gay."

"Naw, naw," he said excitedly as he gripped my arm again. "I'm cool with
you being gay and all."

"But you don't want to have anything to do with me because I am." I stared
into his eyes. "Right?"

He sat back and moaned, "Oh, Man. I am fucked up. You see a guy sucking my
dick, and then I tell you I don't want to be around you because you're
gay." He shook his head. "How sick is that?"

I laughed and replied, "Pretty fucking sick."

He sat back and our arms touched. "You know, you're pretty fucking cool,"
he said as he elbowed me.

He laughed when I elbowed him back and said, "You're a douche."

"I've been called worse," he laughed.

"I'm sure you have," I replied as I elbowed him. We sat back and watched a
replay of a foul on the television.

When the game started again, I asked, "So what are you going to do?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "I guess I gotta start dealing with the fact I
might be bisexual." He looked over, giggled and added, "I gotta fuck a girl
first to find out."

I laughed and said, "Just don't tell me when you do."

"I won't." He pulled his cell phone from his sweats. "I'll show you
pictures."

"Don't do me any favors," I laughed.

"Hell," he replied. "You already seen me getting it on with a dude. Might
as well see me with a girl." He reached down and rearranged the bulge in
his sweats.

My face reddened as I looked down at his crotch. "You've definitely got
something to work with."

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Well, maybe me and you can get into something
sometime."

"Thanks," I replied. "But I'm kind of with someone right now."

"Shade?"

"Yeah."

"You in love with him?"

"Yeah," I said as I looked at him. "I'm in love with him."

He smiled and said, "He's a lucky dude, Man." Curtis rose from the sofa and
stood before me. "I really appreciate the talk. I was about to lose my
mind."

"It's okay," I replied.

"I mean it, Casey." He held out his fist, and we bumped fists. "You're my
main man, Okay? If I got a problem, I'm going to come to you. Bet?"

"Bet," I replied as we bumped fists again. He then turned and bounded up
the steps to his bedroom.

I was surprised Monday morning as we were getting into Rodney's car to go
to school. On the way out of the house, Curtis asked me if I wanted to ride
shotgun, and he would ride in the back with Lane.

"Naw," I said. "I'm good." He asked me if I was sure, and I nodded my
head. He then got into the front with Rodney.

* * * * * * *

Rodney still seemed upset with his brother. When they didn't talk like they
normally do in the morning, then I knew that Curtis had asked me to sit in
the front because he was still afraid of Rodney. I would have liked to have
been a fly on the wall in their bedroom. I'm sure Rodney had a few things
to say about Curtis drinking on Saturday.

In my fifth period Spanish class, students came into class talking
excitedly about a fight in the hallway. As I eavesdropped, I heard Curtis
and Mike's name mentioned. My heart stopped when someone said Shade's
name. I wanted to leave class and go find Shade to see if he was all right,
but Mr. Vega gave us a test, and I was afraid to miss it. Besides, I
wouldn't know where to find him since I didn't know where Shade was fifth
period.

Students were still talking about the fight in my next class, but I was
relieved when I heard that only Curtis and Mike were involved, and not
Shade. It was about halfway through class when a student entered and told
the teacher that I was being summoned to the office. After nervously
gathering my books, I rushed to the office. I was afraid that something had
happened to Shade. When I got there, Rodney and Lane were waiting for me.

Rodney seemed worried, and Lane was holding his hand. "What's happened?"

Rodney informed me, "We gotta go to the hospital." I looked at Lane and he
appeared as if he was ready to burst into tears. The first thing I thought
about was Shade.

I asked excitedly, "Has Shade been hurt?"

"No," replied Rodney. "He's okay. We gotta go to the nurse's office and get
Curtis and take him to the hospital."

"What happened to him?"

Rodney shook his head. "He broke his hand."

"Broke his hand? How?"

Rodney grabbed me by my arm. "We'll talk about it later. I already signed
you out." He pulled me from the office, and we headed to the nurse's
office. Lane held my hand and skipped beside me as we followed Rodney down
the hallway.

When we entered, Curtis was sitting in a chair. He looked up quickly, and
then he hung his head. He was holding an ice pack on his hand.

Rodney sat beside him and said, "Let me see." When Curtis removed the ice
pack, I could see that his hand was bruised and swollen.

Rodney gave a low whistle and said, "That must hurt like a son of a bitch."

Curtis reapplied the ice pack and muttered, "Tell me."

We looked up when the door opened and Shade came barging in. He looked down
at Curtis and asked him if he was okay. Curtis nodded and held up his hand
and showed it to him.

I was confused because I had no idea what was happening. I didn't
understand how Shade knew that Curtis was hurt. I stood and asked, "What is
going on?"

Just then, the nurse appeared and asked Rodney his age. When he told her he
was eighteen, she said she could release Curtis to his care. He had to fill
out a form, and he assured her that he would take Curtis immediately to the
hospital.

On the way out, Shade told me to wait for him while he signed out of
school. He said he wanted to go with us to the hospital. I told Rodney to
go ahead without me, and that I would ride with Shade.

I waited until we got into Shade's car before asking him how Curtis had
broken his hand. Through the rumors I'd heard, I knew that he was somehow
involved. I was glad that he was not harmed.

On the way to the hospital, he explained what happened. He said when he was
walking to his fourth period class, he saw Curtis coming out of his
classroom. He said he was surprised because Curtis started walking beside
him and talking to him.

I asked, "What did he say?"

"Nothing really," replied Shade. "He was just asking me how my classes were
going. Things like that."

He went on to explain that as they walked down the hall, Mike approached
them. He said Mike started taunting Curtis, and he asked Curtis if he found
a new boyfriend. He said Curtis told him to "shut up." Mike replied, "Make
me."

Mike responded by looking at me and saying, "Naw. You'd probably rather
make it with your boyfriend." He said Curtis balled his fist, and he
thought he was going to hit Mike in the face.

"Mike thought so too," he said. "He closed his eyes and waited for the
punch."

I asked, "Is that how he broke his hand?"

"No," replied Shade. "He hit the locker behind Mike."

"So he didn't hit Mike?"

"No," said Shade. "He broke his hand when he hit the locker. You should
have seen Mike. He hauled ass down the hall. I think he thought Curtis
would hit him next."

"So they didn't really fight?"

"No," he said. "By the time anyone realized that a fight was happening, it
was over." I was relieved because I was afraid that Curtis might be
suspended if he was involved in a fight. According to Rodney, he was
already failing a couple of classes. A ten-day suspension for fighting
would really hurt him.

When we arrived at the hospital, Shade called Rodney and he said they were
in the emergency waiting room. Rodney and Lane were sitting waiting for us
when we arrived. I sat across from them and asked if Curtis was all right.

"They're patching him up," he said. "Mom and Randy are on their way." He
looked at the clock on the wall. "They should be here any minute." He
looked over at Shade and asked if he knew how his brother broke his
hand. Like me, he had heard rumors about the fight. Shade told him the same
story he told me.

Mike is a bastard," he hissed when Shade finished. "Someone is going to
beat the shit out of him someday." He rubbed his hands together and said,
"It might just be me."

Lane got excited and said, "Mommy won't like it if you get into a fight
with Mike."

Rodney laughed and pulled Lane into a hug. "I won't fight him, Little
Brother." Lane giggled when his brother added, "I don't want to get shit
all over my hands."

We waited about a half hour before my father arrived. He was upset, but his
attitude for most things seems to be, "Boys will be boys." He didn't think
it was unusual for friends to have arguments occasionally. He seemed more
concerned that it could hurt Curtis's chance to play first base since
baseball season was just beginning.

Karen, on the other hand, was livid. This incident seemed to be the final
straw for her. As soon as she arrived, she said very little. Rodney tried
to explain what had happened, but her reply was, "I don't care what
happened. He should have known better."

She approached the elderly attendant behind the waiting room desk and
demanded to see Curtis. When my father said he would go back with her, she
told him to stay in the waiting room. She kissed his cheek and said, "I
don't think you want to hear what I'm going to say."

In a way, I felt sorry for Curtis. From what Shade had told me, Curtis
really did try to avoid a fight in school with Mike. I had been one of
Mike's victims. I knew how cruel he could be. If he had confronted Shade
and me in the hallway, I probably would have fought with him. I was
determined that he would never again get the upper hand as he did once
before. Besides, I would do anything to protect Shade-even if it meant
getting my ass kicked.

"Christ," muttered my father after Karen after stormed out of the waiting
room. "I've never seen her so mad." He looked over at Rodney and said with
a grin, "You better go down to the pharmacy."

Rodney gave him a puzzled look and asked, "Why?"

He replied, "Because when your mother gets through ripping him a new one,
he's going to need a lot of gauze." Lane started giggling uncontrollably.

We sat around for two hours before Karen finally emerged from the twin
doors that led back to the emergency rooms. She approached and announced
sternly, "He'll be out in about ten minutes."

Rodney asked, "Is he okay?"

Karen glared at him and said, "He broke three fingers and did considerable
damage to his wrist."

She didn't find it funny when Lane giggled and asked, "How's his butt?" My
father grabbed Lane by the shoulder and led him away. I could tell they
were laughing as they walked to the other side of the room.

Curtis emerged minutes later. He held his head down and didn't make eye
contact with anyone. He had a cast on his hand. It appeared to go halfway
up his arm, but it was hard to tell because he was wearing a coat. When
Rodney asked if he was all right, he nodded but didn't say anything.

When we got outside, Curtis started to get in Rodney's car, but Karen told
him to ride with her. Lane jumped into Randy's SUV.

Rodney asked, "You riding with me?" I glanced over at Shade.

Shade looked at his watch and said, "I really should get back to
school. Megan is still rehearsing."

I asked, "You want me to go with you?"

"No," he replied. "You should probably be with your family now." Rodney
waited while I walked Shade over to his car. I wanted to kiss him, but a
family came out of the entrance and got into a nearby car.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," I said as I squeezed hand. He nodded, got in
his car and drove off.

I got into Rodney's car, and he pulled off. As we drove home, he talked
about what happened. He said worriedly, "Coach Wentworth is going to shit
bricks when he finds out Curtis won't be able to play baseball."

I wanted to tell him that Curtis has more problems to worry about other
than baseball, but I simply agreed with him and stared out the window as we
headed home.

* * * * * *

This story is completed at my website: www.themustardjar.com

Send comments to: ronyx@themustardjar.com

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