Date: Sat, 12 Sep 2009 17:58:23 -0700 (PDT)
From: Kevin Pritchett <fsn2u@yahoo.com>
Subject: High School;'Blind as Love'{}( BB teen2 )[2!4]

Disclaimer:

The following story contains erotic situations between men. If it is
illegal for you to read this, please leave now. Comments are welcome at
fsn2u@yahoo.com. Constructive criticisms or comments only, please. This
work is entirely fictional and any resemblance to real people or events is
purely circumstantial and unintentional. This work is also copyrighted by
the author and any copying or redistribution without written permission
from the author is illegal.

All that having been said, I hope you enjoy it :)


Brent


I woke up in a hospital room.  At first I didn't know what was going on or
where I was, but then I looked around and remembered what had happened.  My
mother was sitting a short distance away in a chair by my bed reading a
book, but she hadn't yet noticed I was awake.  I could hear my father
talking in the hallway, probably on his cell phone.  I hurt all over and it
was a little hard to breathe, but I managed to croak, "Where's Jon?"

My mother jumped as if she'd been punched in the back and ran to my side.
"What is it, honey?" she asked.  "What did you say?"  She was rubbing my
hair like a puppy and gazing at me with teary, concerned eyes.

"Where is Jon?" I asked again.  I was so thirsty and I felt like I`d been
run over by a truck, but my discomforts would have to wait until I knew
about him.

"The boy you were with?" she asked.  "He's right down the hall.  He's
alive, but he's hurt very badly.  The state patrol said that someone had
crossed the median on the interstate and you swerved, but lost control.
You landed in a ditch and the airbags went off.  That's the only reason
you're alive."  She tried to hug me, but it hurt too badly and she backed
off a little.

"I have to see him," I said.  I tried to sit up, but she gently pushed me
back down on the bed and pulled my sheet up.

"You can see him when you're better," she said.  She ran her fingers
through my hair and I knew she was trying to comfort and protect me, but it
was starting to worry me that she wouldn't let me find out about
Jon. "You're in no condition--,"

"No, I have to see Jon now!" I shouted.  My father came in the room and
started to talk me out of it, but I was already getting up on my own again.
I had never known pain like that, but I didn't care.  All that mattered was
getting to Jon.  He needed me and I wasn't about to lay here away from him
when he was hurt.  I had to see him.  I had to make them understand.  "I
have to go to him," I said out loud. "He needs me.  He'll be scared."  I
pulled the I.V. out of my arm wincing at the pain and swung my legs over
the side of the bed.  My father, finally seeing how determined I was,
helped me to stand and limp my way one excruciating step after another down
the hall to Jon's room.  I must have been banged up even worse than I had
thought because Jon's mother, or the woman I assumed to be his mother, gave
a terrible start when she saw me hobble into the room.  I didn't say
anything to her, not out of meanness, but I wanted to save my strength for
talking to Jon.

He lay flat on the bed, one arm in a cast and a huge bandage over his
forehead and eyes.  His lips were cracked and large purple bruises littered
his skin where the tiny gown left it exposed.  His breathing was steady,
but labored and he moaned a little every now and then.  "He groans in his
sleep," his mother said as she walked up to him from the other side of the
bed from me.  "He always has."  I looked at her and tears were freely
streaming down her face.  "We should have paid more attention to him," she
continued.  "I should have protected him from his father.  It took almost
loosing him to figure out how much I love him."

I laid my hand on his and asked, "Is he going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine," he mumbled.  "My head just hurts."

I was so happy to hear him talk that I started crying and laughing at the
same time.  It hurt so bad to do either and I was afraid that the crying
would dehydrate me even worse than I already was, but I didn't care.  He
was alive and that was all that mattered.  "Can we have a minute alone?" I
asked his mother.  She nodded and left along with my parents.  When the
door shut, I turned back to him.  "Oh, baby, I love you so much," I said as
I kissed him all over.  "I'm so sorry about all of this.  I was so worried
about you."

"I'll be alright," he said.  "The doctors say that I'm doing good and
they'll let me go home soon.  They just want to watch me for a few days and
run some tests.  Did you break anything?"

I had forgotten about the bandage, he couldn't see anything with it on.
"No," I said, "At least, I don't think so.  I just woke up a few minutes
ago and I had to come and see you."  I leaned down and kissed his lips
softly.  "I love you," I said quietly and the door opened behind me.  My
parents and Jon's mother were on the heals of a nurse who talked me into
going back to my bed, promising me that I could come and see Jon again
soon.  We both needed rest and I was informed that I did not need to be
walking around the halls in my condition.  Grudgingly I allowed them to
guide me back to my room where I passed out as soon as I laid down.

I felt much better the next day.  The pain was still intense, but I could
get up and go to the bathroom on my own by lunch time.  I called Jon's room
when I woke up and every hour after that, but there was no answer.  I
waited for my parents to go and eat, then I called the nurses' station and
asked about him.  They told me that he was gone for some tests and would be
back any time.  I couldn't wait to see him again.  My heart was in my
throat the whole time.  I was afraid that the tests would tell them that
something was hurting him or worse.  When the phone rang at one o'clock, I
almost jerked it out of the wall, I answered it so quickly.  Jon's mother
was on the other end and said that Jon was asking for me.  She said that
she would come and talk to my parents so that we could be alone.  I passed
her in the hall and she smiled to me warmly, but didn't say anything.  Her
eyes were dark and sunken, probably from a lack of sleep, and her skin was
pale and clammy looking.  She looked as though she had been beaten.  And I
supposed that she had, at least psychologically.

Jon was sitting up in the bed when I entered.  He was still wearing the
bandage, but he had pajamas now.  "Are you warm?" I asked as I pushed the
door shut behind me.  The hospital wasn't the most comfortable place I'd
ever stayed, and it could get pretty cold, even during the day.

"I'm fine," he said.  I sat down on the bed next to him and he laid his
hand on my leg.  I quickly took it in my hand and kissed it softly.  "I
love you."

"I love you, too," I said.

"We have to talk," he said.  "There's so much I have to tell you.  It may
be easier if you don't interrupt me, so I can just blurt it all out and get
it over with."  I told him I wouldn't interrupt and he continued.  "Well,
first of all, I told my mother about us.  I told her everything.  She said
that she doesn't care as long as I'm alive and happy.  She said that was
all that mattered to her.  We both did a lot of crying, but she said that
she was glad that you were there to protect me.  She even said that she
would help you explain things to your parents if you want her to.
Apparently, she likes you.  And she said that you are very cute.  I get my
taste from her, I suppose.

"The other thing I need to tell you isn't very pleasant.  I went for some
tests today and the doctors didn't have very good news."  He must have felt
my hand tighten on his because he winced a little.  I eased off and he kept
talking.  "When we landed in the ditch, my seatbelt malfunctioned.  They
said that the airbag deployed and it saved my life, but it also crunched my
head against the roof.  Anyway, something happened and a lot of pressure
was put on my brain, making a bruise in the front part.  The doctor says
that that part of the brain controls sight.  That's why I have this bandage
on my face.  Anyway, they told me that there is a good chance that I'll
never see again."

His voice was shaky and he sounded like he was about to cry.  He couldn't
see it, but I was already crying enough for both of us.  "Does...Will
you...Can..."  I didn't know what to say.  I was so confused and scared
that I couldn't say anything.  He felt my arm and followed it to my
shoulder and around my neck, then pulled me to him.  I tried to pull away a
little because I didn't want to hurt him, but then I gave in because I
wanted to hold him so badly.  We laid in his bed and hugged and cried until
we fell asleep.

I woke to someone shaking me.  I opened my eyes and saw the window a few
feet away.  It was dark outside and the glass was coated with rain drops.
I turned a little and saw my parents and Jon's mother looking at me.  I got
up as carefully as I could, my mother and father both holding my arms to
steady me, none of us saying a word.  They walked me back to my room and
laid me in my bed.  My father sat down on the edge of the other bed in the
room and my mother leaned over me.  She pulled the sheet up under my chin
and smoothed my hair like she used to when I was a little boy.

"Get some sleep," she whispered.  "Everything will be alright in the
morning."

I must have been very tired.  I fell asleep again very quickly and didn't
wake until almost lunch time the next day.  When I opened my eyes, my
parents were both sitting on the edge of the other bed looking at me.  I
sat up groggily in the bed and rubbed my eyes, dreading the conversation I
knew we were about to have.  "You know, don't you?" I asked after a minute.

My mother nodded and said, "When you didn't come back after a while last
night, we went to Jon's room to check on you and found you laying together.
His mother stopped us from waking you and said that she needed to tell us
something.  She told us all about you two."

I looked at their faces and they were smiling.  They weren't the kind of
smiles that sarcastically said, `Just what we always wanted, a gay son,'
either.  They were more like the `We know you're gay, and we don`t care as
long as you`re alive,' smiles.  I couldn't help but give them a smile too.
I had pictured in my mind that this would be a lot harder.  And maybe it
would have been if I weren't in a hospital room.  I didn't know, but at
that moment I didn't care either.

The doctor came to see me in the afternoon.  He poked and prodded for a few
minutes, then told my parents that they could take me home the next day.  I
was happy, but I knew that I couldn't leave Jon.  He needed me now more
than ever and I wasn't about to let him down.  I didn't get any argument
when I said I wanted to go and see him.  My parents walked with me down the
hall, even though I didn't need any help.  I was feeling much better and
only had some bruised ribs from the seatbelt.  They walked back to my room
when we got to his door and I walked in alone.  The room was empty except
for Jon's mother.  She was sitting on the side of the bed crying a little,
but looked up and smiled when I came in the room.

"He's been wanting to see you," she said as she blotted some tears with a
tissue.  "He was with the doctors earlier and they took the bandages off.
He can't see anything.  They said that he'll probably be totally blind for
the rest of his life.  I'm glad you came, though.  I've been wanting to
talk to you.  Jon loves you more than anything.  I'm trying to help him
through this, but I haven't been there for him for so long that I don't
think he trusts me anymore.  He needs someone to love that he can trust.
Someone that will help him through this.  I think that's you.  I can tell
when you look at him that you love him deeply.  You can't know how much it
would mean to me if you would help him."

I sat down on the bed beside her and took her hand in mine.  "I do love
him," I said.  "And I would be very happy to help him any way that I can.
But I think that you should know that I know Jon pretty well.  Well enough
to know that he cares about you more than you think.  He's very happy that
you're here with him.  Right now he just needs love.  It doesn't matter who
it's coming from."

"You're very smart for your age," she said with a smile.  "Smarter than me,
probably."  She took a tissue from a box on the bedside table and wiped her
eyes.  "I'll tell you what, I'm going to go and meet your parents and see
if they want to join me for a cup of coffee in the cafeteria.  Take your
time and talk to him.  He's been in the shower for about ten minutes, but I
know he needs help and he won't let me."  She reached over and took my hand
to give it a squeeze, then got up to go and kissed me on the cheek as she
left.

I sat on the bed for a minute and for the first time I noticed the flowers
beside the bed.  One pot of yellow daisies sat by the phone with a card
sticking out of the top on a plastic stick.  I reached and got it and saw
that they were from his mother and grandparents.  It made me think about
all the flowers in my room that I had completely ignored.  They were from
various family members and friends who had either come to see me or had
heard about the accident and sent them to show they were thinking of me.
It made me feel bad that I had always had things like that and Jon hadn't.
I promised myself right then that I would give him anything that he wanted.
But first I would start by calling down to the gift shop and having them
send up some flowers for him.

When I was finished ordering him a few dozen roses, I got up and walked to
the bathroom.  The room was filled with steam, but I could see pretty well.
I walked to the shower curtain and stuck my head in and saw Jon sitting on
the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest.  The bandage was still off
and for the first time I saw the massive bruises and a long cut on his
forehead.  His body was shaking a little bit with sobs, making his tiny
frame look so delicate.  Not caring about my clothes, I stepped into the
shower with him and took him in my arms.  I told him that I loved him and
that I would always be there for him and he laid his head on my chest.  He
cried for a while and I cradled him and let him get it out of his system.
After he was done I stood him up and bathed him.

"I must look pretty bad," he said as I wiped him with the sponge.  "No one
will tell me how I look.  They just say that I look fine when I ask.  Will
you tell me what it looks like?"

I swallowed hard and took his head gently in my hands as I leaned him back
into the spray and started to massage some shampoo into his hair.  "Well,
um, there's a cut on your forehead about four inches long.  It starts right
above your left eyebrow and runs up to your hairline just above your right
eyebrow and it looks like they`ve put some stitches in it.  You've got a
lot of bruises and scrapes all around it and your nose is purple.  Your arm
is broken and has a blue cast on it.  It looks like someone put it in one
of those clear trash bags to keep it dry while you took a shower.  You've
got a pretty bad bruise across your chest where the seatbelt grabbed you.
And you've got a pretty bad scrape on your left thigh."

He was quiet for a minute, then thanked me for telling him.  I thought he
could probably tell how hard I was having to try not to cry.  He reached up
with his hand and felt my face.  His fingers were soft as they searched my
eyes, nose and mouth.  "I would give anything to see you again," he said,
his voice on the verge of cracking.  I'm sure that if his face wasn't
covered in water from the shower, it would be covered in tears.  But I was
already crying again.  I turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the
rack above the toilet.  I dried him off carefully, then took the bag off of
his arm.  I found his clothes on the sink and took the underwear.  I leaned
down and had him prop on me for balance while I lifted his legs one at a
time and slipped them up around his waist.  I did the same with the pajama
bottoms, then slipped his t-shirt over his head.  I stripped my own clothes
off and pulled on a robe that was on the back of the door and led him back
to his bed.  I picked him up and laid him on it despite him swearing that
he could do it.  I had no doubt that he could, but I wanted to do it.  I
crawled up beside him and pulled the stiff white sheet up over us.  I held
him and smoothed his hair until he fell asleep, then I drifted off beside
him.

****

Jon was released from the hospital three days later.  True to my word, I
stayed there with him until it was time to go and we left together.  I
helped him into his mother's car and kissed him before they drove away,
then got into my parent's car.  As we drove home, my mother sat in the back
seat with me and talked to me.  "You really do love him, don't you?" she
asked.  I told her that I did and she nodded.  "Your father and I have
always had a low opinion of homosexuality, but we're not stupid.  All this
time we thought it was just perversion, but there is nothing perverse about
true love and we know it when we see it."  She paused for a minute and
said, "Your father and I have done a lot of talking and we have something
we want to show you."

The car pulled up to a small house a few blocks from mine.  I had seen it
quite a few times, but never really paid attention to it.  It was a cute
little house with a wooden fence in the back yard painted white and had a
few flower beds.  We all got out of the car and walked to the front door.
My dad took a key from his pocket and opened the house.  The inside was
empty.  There were plain woven rugs on the hardwood floors and the walls
were a soft gray color.  The living room was fairly large, as were the two
bedrooms and the bathroom.  There was a kitchen with a dishwasher and a
glass-top stove.  "This is yours," my dad said.  "If you want it.  For you
and Jon."

I was floored.  "When did you do this?" I asked.

"Actually, we bought it a few months ago," he said.  "It was supposed to be
your graduation present, but it looks like you may need it a little earlier
than that."

"What do you mean?" I asked.  I was a little scared and felt like they were
kicking me out of my home.  "It's okay," mom said, noticing the look on my
face and taking my hand.  "We talked to Jon's mother and she really wants
you to be close to Jon.  We thought about letting you stay with them, but
she seems to think that it wouldn't be a very good idea with Jon's father
there.  Then we thought about him coming to live with us, which would be
fine, too, but then we thought you might want your own space.  We thought
about it and we already had this, so we decided to give you the option."

I was so relieved that tears were freely streaming down my face.  I didn't
know what to say.  I hugged them both and I noticed that my mom was crying
too.

"We'll only be a few blocks away and we're going to pay for everything.
We've got some furniture picked out, but we'll go over all that with you
later.  You can change anything you want.  We'll go to the grocery store
and stock up the kitchen with whatever you want.  And we're going to go
with Jon's mother to the doctor and see what we can do to make the house
more hospitable to someone with his condition."  I was so happy.  My
parents were acting like saints.  I could tell they were still a little
unsure of how to act, but they were doing a great job.  This was nothing
like what I imagined this to be like.  I had thought there would be harsh
words and tears, but instead they were being so nice to me and to Jon that
it was making me cry.  We stayed in the house a little longer, then locked
up and went home.

My parents let me use their car to pick up Jon the next day.  I went to his
house and his mother walked him to the car.  I told him about the house and
said that it was up to him if he wanted to live with me or not.  I secretly
hoped that he would, but at the same time I felt guilty in a way for
stealing him away from his mother.  I told him to think about it for a
while and I took him to see it.  We walked in the front door and I
described the rooms to him as we walked through the house.  He seemed like
he really liked it and was very interested in the bathroom and bedroom more
than anything.  We sat down on the floor in front of the large living room
window and I asked him if he liked it.

"I love it," Jon said.  "And your parents won't mind if I live with you?"

"It was their idea," I said.  "And your mother's.  They can all see how in
love we are and they want us to be happy."

"When can we move in?" he asked.  I was so relieved that he'd said yes.  I
took him in my arms and held him, kissing him lightly and telling him over
and over how much I loved him.

"This isn't going to be easy for either of us," he said.

"I'm ready for it," I said.  I wouldn't mind looking after him for the rest
of our lives as long as I could be with him.

We moved in two weeks later.  Our parents contacted the school board and
arranged it so we could pick up right where we left off.  Jon would have to
be put in another class where he would learn to read brail and learn to use
his other senses in place of his sight.  I was glad to have the help from
the school.  There was nothing I wouldn't do for Jon, but I couldn't teach
him to see with his fingers and his ears.  They said they would teach him
tricks that would help him find his way around the house and the school
without constant supervision.  I didn't like the idea of leaving him alone,
but there would be times when I would have no choice.  I would have to go
to my classes and being across the campus from him meant that I couldn't
help him around all the time.

Our first day back I walked him to class.  The hall was filled with people
giving us stares like we were from a different planet.  I was glad in a way
that he couldn't see them, it would have hurt his feelings.  I walked him
inside his new classroom and described it for him.  I told him there were
no marker boards or papers hanging on the wall, but there were circular
desks and blocks of clay with heads carved into them and books all over the
place with blank pages.

"Actually, they're not blank," the teacher said from behind.  I
straightened and turned to see her.  She was about middle age with mousy
hair and dark eyes.  Her nose looked imposing, but her voice was soft and
kind.  "They're brail.  You must be Brent."  She held out her hand and I
took it.

"Yes, ma'am, I'm Brent Chandler," I said.  "This is Jon Aleston."  I took
his hand and led him toward her.

"I've heard a lot about you two," she said.  "Both your parents came to see
me the other day.  They are very proud of you two.  And I have to say that
I'm very proud of you also.  Especially you Brent.  It's not very common
for someone to stay with someone they're only dating after they've
sustained a life-altering injury.  I have to tell you though, the principle
and I have talked and we think it would be wise for you to join this class
also."

"How can I do that?" I asked.  "I'm not blind and the school board has said
that I will be given credit for the class time I've missed, but I still
have to take my normal classes."

"Yes, that's true," she said.  "But we didn't mean full time.  The school
board is aware of your unique circumstances and has agreed to allow us to
drop one of your classes for full credit and enroll you in this class for
an hour a day with normal applicable credit.  It will be a social science
and you'll attend the last hour of the school day.  We want to do this to
teach you how to take care of Jon and how to live with his blindness.
Also, since it's the last class of the day for you, you can take Jon home
directly from here."

"I don't know what to say," I said.

"Oh, there's nothing to say," she said with a smile.  "It's all been taken
care of.  You start today.  Come here for your last class.  I think you'll
be surprised.  This can actually be fun if you don't think of it as a
handicap."

"Thank you," I said.  I went back to Jon and hugged him and gave him a soft
kiss on the lips.  "Don't worry about anything," I said to him.  "I'll be
back this afternoon and the teacher will take care of you."  Jon nodded his
head and told me that he loved me and I headed for my first class feeling
like a giant load had been taken off my shoulders.

Unfortunately, my easiness was short-lived.  Everyone treated me
differently all day making me uncomfortable.  Even my friends were extra
nice to me, almost like they were over-compensating for something.  Close
to lunch I found out why.  I walked into my third period class and sat down
near the back of the room.  There was already a group of kids sitting at
the front and they didn't hear me come in.  I was unpacking my books when a
part of their conversation caught my attention.

"...that Brent and that quiet boy, Jon, went on a trip together and on the
way back, Brent got in an accident.  Now Jon's blind.  I've heard that
they've even arranged his schedule to be with him."

"What were they doing taking a trip together?"

"Well, I heard that they're gay," one said.  "That would explain why he
said that he would kick anybody's ass that messed with Jon."

"Brent's a fag?" another boy asked.

I couldn't listen to anymore.  I didn't even bother re-packing my books, I
just picked them up and grabbed my bag and ran out the door.  I ran through
the halls bumping into and dodging people until I got to the rear of the
school.  The parking lot was empty as I dashed through it, past rows of
parked cars and onto the football field where I climbed up into the
bleachers and sat looking at the empty field.  My eyes were fogged and my
cheeks wet with tears.  I didn't know why I was being so emotional about
what those kids had said.  I had really expected much worse on my first day
back at school.  The thought of something making me cry and knowing that it
was nothing to cry over made me cry even more.  I shoved my books and bag
away and slammed my head into my folded arms.  I sat and rocked back and
forth for a while, crying to myself and wondering if I was right when I
told Jon that everything was going to be okay.  I sat in the stadium
through lunch and fourth and fifth periods.  Finally I packed up my
backpack and walked into the dirty bathroom of the stadium near the
concession stand.  I checked my reflection in the cracked mirror on the
wall and was satisfied that I didn't look like I'd been crying.  I turned
on the creaking faucet and splashed cold water on my face, then dried up
with some paper towels.  I took one last look in the mirror and headed off
to my last class with Jon.

The class was interesting.  The teacher introduced me to the other nine
kids in the class.  Each one of them took turns touching my face the way
Jon had in the shower at the hospital.  The teacher explained that they
were looking at me.  Then each kid stood and went to get a various object
that the teacher would name without assistance.  They did this by counting
the number of steps that they took from a random spot in the room.  One kid
lost count when he tripped and was lost for a few minutes, but the teacher
didn't help.  She whispered to me that he needed to learn to do this on his
own and if she helped then he would eventually get used to the idea that if
he got lost he'd get help and wouldn't learn how to do this for himself
when he had to.

When the bell rang I hadn't been expecting it.  It didn't seem like we'd
been at it for an hour.  I gathered Jon's things and mine and started for
the door when the teacher stopped me.  "Can I talk to you for a minute,
Brent?"

I left Jon at the door and walked back to the front of the class to speak
with the teacher.  "Yes, Mrs. Watley?"

"May I ask why you'd been crying before you came in here?" she asked.

"I wasn't crying," I lied.

"Brent, the students in this class may be blind, but I assure you, I'm
not," she said.  "If you don't want to talk about it, simply say so, but I
ask you not to lie to me.  Lies made baby Jesus cry."  She laughed after
she said that last and, though I didn't get the joke, I supposed it was
intended to help me relax and I was grateful.  Not relaxed, but grateful.

"I just feel helpless," I said.  "And I feel like an insect under a
microscope.  Like everyone is watching me.  I know the other kids are
talking about me behind my back.  It just feels like too much to take right
now."

"So this is really about what the other kids are saying about you?" she
asked.  "Brent, you are a very kind and gentle young man.  You're very
caring and intelligent, but you are also naïve if you think that people
didn't talk about you before.  As much as I hate to say it, that's not an
uncommon thing.  Actually, it's more common than you think.  This has done
nothing but give them something to talk about whereas they may not have had
anything of any relevance before.  As for this feeling like too much, it is
a lot, yes.  And it's something that I don't think anyone your age should
have to go through.  Unfortunately, that's not for me to decide.  But keep
in mind that it's things like this that define who we are.  They tell us
things about our character and state of mind that normal, mundane
situations can't.  And you are doing just fine, Brent.  You had this
dropped in your lap, just like Jon did, and you're both doing very well.
Just keep that in mind because, if your mind is clouded by doubt and fear,
then you won't be able to give Jon the kind of care and attention that he
needs.  Not only because he's blind, but because you are his boyfriend."

I was silent and stood looking at the floor for what must have been an
uncomfortably long time.  "Thank you, Mrs. Watley," I said finally and she
hugged me lightly.  I smiled at her, then went to Jon and took his hand and
held it all the way from the classroom to the car.  I didn't care who saw
us after that moment.  "What did you think of your first day back?" I asked
him as I loaded our things into the trunk of the rental car my parents had
gotten for us.

"It was good," he said as I got in the drivers seat and fastened my
seatbelt.  I cranked the car and looked over at him.  He was smiling, but I
couldn't see his eyes.  We had bought him a pair of sunglasses to hide the
bruises and he was still wearing them, but I was pretty sure that the smile
on his lips wasn't touching his eyes.  We drove to my parent's house for
dinner and Jon's mother was there.

Jon inquired about his father, but his mother looked a little nervous as
she said, "Oh, he's fine.  He's just not feeling well right now.  But he
says to tell you that he loves you and he misses you."  Jon gave a polite
smile and I looked away.  I could tell that he was hurt, but this was one
pain I couldn't do anything about and it was killing me that I couldn't
make it go away.

Over dinner we told our parents about our first day back at school.  I left
out the part about my talk with the teacher after class.  They were very
happy about me getting into Jon's class and said that they would write the
school board and thank them.

When we lay down that night to go to sleep, I looked at Jon's body laying
next to me.  He was facing me with his eyes open even though he couldn't
see me, but it still felt like he could.  "What's wrong, baby?" I asked.  I
could tell something had been bothering him lately, especially today.

"I don't know," he said.  "It's just that I feel bad for putting everyone
through this and not being able to help myself."

"Jon, you weren't driving that car," I said.  "You didn't ask to be hit in
the head and go blind.  And I don't mind helping you.  I love you more than
anything.  The way I see it, this just sped up my plans by a few years."

"What do you mean, `sped up your plans'?" he asked.

"It means that I'd hoped we'd live together, I just hadn't planned on it
happening so quickly," I explained.

"You really wanted me to live with you?" he asked.  His voice was cracking
like it was all he could do to keep from crying.  I really didn't want him
to cry.  We had both done so much crying in the past few weeks that I
didn't think either of us could do it anymore.

"Of course I wanted you to live with me," I said.  "Jon, I wasn't kidding
when I told you that I love you.  I have since I met you and more every
day."  I hugged him close to me.  "I won't ever leave you."  He was crying
now and so was I, then he kissed me.  It was a quick kiss, like saying
thank you, then he kissed me again.  After a few kisses we were rolling in
the sheets and taking our clothes off as fast as we could.  It had been
weeks since we had been together intimately and we were both ravenous for
each other.  I had to catch myself and slow down a little because of his
arm being in the cast.  I wanted this to be the best he'd ever had and not
to hurt him in any way.

When we had finished, Jon fell asleep almost immediately.  I watched him
for a while and was happy when I saw the peaceful look on his face and the
small smile that touched his lips.  It wasn't long before I cuddled up
beside him and fell asleep, too.

To be continued...

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